Letter To Me
by Mrs.Stockwell
Summary: At 30, Draco's life is everything he never wanted. When he finds a spell that allows him to write a letter to himself at 16, what will he write? What will he change? And how will that affect him future?
1. Rock Bottom

**Disclaimer:**__I don't need a disclaimer.. I totally own HP and all it entails. -.- I wish. Alright so everything belongs to JK Rowling. Except the plot. I made that up. Because Brad Paisley wrote a song that made me think of it. ;D

**Chapter 1 – Rock Bottom**

"We're sorry, Mr. Malfoy but we're afraid you can't be here today." Looking up through the blonde fringe in front of his face, Draco Malfoy glared at the young woman standing at the hostess station. He didn't normally go out to lunch, unwilling to face public scrutiny, but his best friend had asked him to meet up so they could discuss the latest news between him and his fiancé.

"And just why, may I ask, am I not allowed to step foot inside? Last I checked you hadn't put me on your ban list." His voice had taken on a raspy tone from not being used very often, not to mention he had just woke up in time to try and make it to lunch. He tried to tamp down on the anger that was beginning to pulse through him at her words. He'd just been there last week and he hadn't done anything that should have warranted his exclusion from the restaurant. At least not that he could remember.

"Oh no, that's not what I meant, sir. You aren't banned, you simply cannot come in today." The hostess was looking at him fearfully as though afraid he would go back to his Death Eater roots and curse her for following protocol.

Seething at this point, he put a hand against his forehead and spoke into his palm so he didn't scare the girl enough to make sure that he did get banned. "And just what is so special about today that I am incapable of coming inside?"

"Hermione Granger and her daughter are hear, and when she came inside she handed me a letter to say that you are not allowed within 500 feet of them. I could get into serious trouble if I were to allow you inside today." The words that came out of her mouth were the last ones he expected and the anger on his face dissipated as soon as it had appeared. The shock must have been visible because she looked even more worried as she tentatively put a hand on his forearm. "Please, Mr. Malfoy. Please don't make a big scene. I don't want to see you get in trouble with the ministry. I've seen what they've done to others who breaks the rules of restraining orders."

Letting out a breath he wasn't even aware he had been holding, he nodded slightly. "I know the rules." He stepped back from the hostess' station, unable to make himself turn around and starting backing out the door.

"Drake! Hey, where are you going? You weren't just going to skip out on me, were you?" Blaise Zabini walked out of the restaurant holding his hand up like a visor in front of his face to warn off the sunlight. "I can't believe you were just going to leave without telling me."

"Mia's inside with Lydia. I can't go in."

Blaise looked at his friend with a mixture of sympathy and pity, making the blonde flinch. "Yeah well I just saw them paying the bill. They're getting ready to leave so just wait a few minutes and they'll let you in." Draco's eyes went wide at the thought that his ex girlfriend and his daughter would be walking by him at any moment and nearly hid behind a pillar so he didn't have to see what he was missing out on.

The Italian next to him just shook his head and grabbed his arm, restricting him from going anywhere but exactly where he was. Draco wasn't allowed near them, that much was true, but the ministry couldn't hold it against him for standing in the street as they walked by. It wasn't even Hermione that he was worried about seeing. It was his daughter, Lydia Granger, née Malfoy. The last time he had seen the little girl with the light brown curls and big blue eyes she had been turning three. He quickly did the calculations in his head and surmised that she would be turning eight this year.

Just as he finished figuring out that it had been nearly five years since he had seen hide or hair of his daughter or her mother, they pair walked out of the restaurant hand in hand. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Hermione got the papers from the young woman at the hostess station so that he would finally be allowed inside. All the while though, he couldn't take his eyes off the girl holding onto her hand.

Lydia Granger stood at nearly Hermione's bust line, her light brown hair pulled into a pony tail high on her head. Her deep blue eyes were a color like Draco had never seen before, almost mixing together the blue from his own eyes and the brown from Hermione's. She was thin, wearing a pair of muggle jeans and a shirt that looked like it had seen better days. It wasn't until he got a good glance at the front of it that he realized it was an enlarged version of a shirt he had sent her as a baby. He wasn't even aware that Hermione had allowed her to keep anything he gave her.

He pulled his hand away from Blaise and covered his mouth just as the small girl's big eyes met his, widening as they realized who he was. He hadn't been expecting that, so he supposed that either Hermione had seen fit to show her his picture so that she would know exactly who she was supposed to stay away from, or she'd been graced with Hermione's know-it-all attitude and had looked him up herself. He doubted that her mother would have shown her his picture just so the girl would know how to recognize her father out of the kindness of her heart.

"Hi daddy," he heard her whisper. He'd barely been able to hear it but he could read her lips well enough to know what she said. Apparently Hermione had heard her too because she looked up to meet the eyes of the only male Malfoy still living and quickly started walking away with Lydia in tow.

"Bye, baby," he said with a slight hitch in his voice as he watched them make it to the apparition point before they disappeared completely.

"Right, well then. You ready for lunch?"

By the time they had finished lunch and Blaise had informed Draco that Pansy and he were expecting their third child, Draco couldn't wait to get out of the public eye and make it back to work. For the last month he had been working as a bartender at the Three Broomsticks so that Rosmerta could take a few days off now and then.

"Oh, Malfoy, you actually came in today."

Draco looked up from the counter where he had been signing in and met the eyes of the owner of the pub. "Why wouldn't I be here?"

"Well I just, I thought I sent you an owl. You must not have gotten it. I – I don't need your help here anymore." The woman standing before him had been the one person who hadn't treated him like dragon dung since the end of the war so he was bothered that she'd just up and decided she didn't want him there. "It's just, you're a bother to the customers. I don't make nearly as much money on drinks when you are working and to be honest they are the reason that we are able to stay in business. But people don't trust you not to slip something into their drinks before you hand them over so they don't order. You're killing my business, Malfoy."

Without even finishing his signature he grabbed his cloak and fought through the crowd to get to the front door. He didn't bother saying goodbye or picking up his last paycheck. He knew that if she hadn't already, Rosmerta would send it to him via owl.

"Great. Because my life hadn't turned to shit enough already, the great Gryffindor know-it-all was proven right at last. Nobody will hire me, and those that are stupid enough to do so won't keep me. She was right to leave me. I couldn't have taken care of them no matter how hard I tried." The problem with Draco's current line of thought wasn't that he was wrong. Rather it was that when he started thinking about his failed relationship with Gryffindor's golden girl, he realized how many bad choices he'd made and he usually started drinking, which is what had brought about the breakup in the first place. It was a vicious cycle.

Picking up the bottle of firewhiskey from beside his overstuffed chair, he didn't bother grabbing a tumbler, just took a giant swig from the bottle itself. He hissed as the liquid burned his throat on the way down, taking a few more swigs of various amounts trying to numb his mind to the failures of his life. By the time he'd finished half the bottle he had drowned enough of his sorrows in his opinion. "It's too bad I can't go back in time, write a letter to myself so that maybe I won't end up such a miserable wretch."

He'd just begun to close his eyes, letting the alcohol drift him to sleep when his eyes shot open. "Bloody hell, it couldn't be possible, could it?"


	2. If I Could Write a Letter To Me

**Disclaimer: **I would like to thank JK Rowling for writing the HP books so that I could steal her characters and write this story. Thank you to Brad Paisley for song "Letter To Me" not only for the title of this story, but for the title of this chapter. Enjoy.

**Author's Note: **Thank you to everyone who favorited and thank you to the two of you who reviewed. I'm stealing my friend's internet today so it's up a day earlier than I was originally going to put it up. Enjoy.

**Chapter Two – If I Could Write A Letter To Me**

It had been over a month since Draco had been fired from his job at the Three Broomsticks and he had been spending every spare moment of his time going between the library at his family home and the public library that had been built after Hogwarts had been attacked during the Second Wizarding War.

A month of looking for some way to send a letter back to himself so that he could change his life. A month looking for a way to go back so that if Lydia did manage to come around in the next future that he would be able to see her, to hold her, to tell her that he loved her every day like he had always wanted his own father to do. He hadn't actually come up with anything yet, but he knew that after this much time if he was going to find anything it would be soon.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if you had any more books on charms. Perhaps on Advanced Charms, or Time Travel," he'd honestly tried doing it all himself but after five weeks he was running out of options. Asking for help seemed to be the only option left. He'd looked through nearly every book in the library.

"Actually we do have one book." Draco's eyes lit up as the librarian started talking. If she thought there was a book that could help him then maybe he could finally get his wish and write the letter. He wasn't ready to write it without knowing that he could send it back though. "Actually, it's more a manuscript. It was found among the effects of a Professor Snape some years after the end of the war."

At the mention of his childhood mentor, his godfather, his friend, Draco gave the barest nod. It still hurt to think that the man was dead. "Where can I find it?" The librarian stood from her desk, leading him towards the back of the library where a small notebook was encased in glass. He supposed he hadn't noticed it because it was in the glass, almost as if it belonged in a museum instead of a library.

"We keep it in here because we don't wish for people to destroy the book. It is a copy; there is another copy at Hogwarts. I hear they keep the original locked up. Some say they buried it with him, though I don't see how that's possible since it wasn't found until years later. But hopefully you can find what you are looking for in there." She put a hand on his shoulder and lifted up the top of the case so he could grab the notebook. "Good luck, Mr. Malfoy."

"Thank you," he told the librarian as she walked away. Time seemed to be suspended as he looked down at the enclosure. Could he really do it? Could he really find a spell that would help him out? "It doesn't even matter," he said softly. As soon as the words has escaped his lips he knew that there was truth in the statement. It wasn't completely true, he did still want to find a spell if it existed, but it didn't matter at the moment. Sitting before him was the last thing his most trusted friend had ever written.

"Well, here goes nothing."

Hours later Draco was sitting at home, his own written notes in front of him and a cheesy grin on his face. His godfather had come through for him, writing out a spell right before he died that would ensure that Draco would be able to write a letter to himself in the past and have it sent to him at sixteen.

Deciding what was going to be written in the letter was now going to be the difficult part, seeing as how he had to decide just what he wanted to change in the future, or the past as it would be. He wanted to think about it carefully, so he didn't forget anything.

"Things to remember," he read aloud from his notes after he had finally jotted some down. "Don't tell anyone about the letter. Write something that you know is going to make him believe you. Save Severus. Become trusted by the Order. No matter what you do, become trusted by the Order."

"Dinner, sir," a tiny house elf popped into the room wearing a purple and yellow apron. It looked ridiculous but if nothing else, Hermione had managed to instill in him the need to offer clothes to his house elves. When they'd been together she hadn't even wanted to acknowledge the fact that he had any, but it didn't matter now that she was gone.

"Thank you, Mindy." He took the proffered plate and set it down beside himself. "Min, if you could change anything in the past, what would it be?" He had gotten used to speaking to the squeaky girl. The only friend he really had was Blaise, and with three children he knew that Blaise didn't have time to come over very often anymore.

"That's easy, Master Draco, sir." Mindy's big eyes glazed over as she traveled back into the past through her memories. "Miss Hermione and Miss Lydia would be here." Draco looked at her in shock, he hadn't thought that if anything could make the house elf happy it would be the same thing that would make him happy. "If I could change anything, Master Draco would finally be happy and not be sitting home alone on a weekend."

A chuckle escaped from Draco's lips as he nodded. "Thanks Min. I'll keep that in mind."

15 August 2010

Dear Draco,

You won't believe how strange it is to be writing a letter to you, since I am you. So it's actually that I'm writing a letter to myself. Not a note, which would be normal. No, I'm writing a letter. And not just to myself, but to myself as I was fourteen years ago. Hopefully I do this spell correctly so that you receive this when you're sixteen. Hopefully before you accept your fate as a Death Eater. Because otherwise this letter isn't going to be worth the parchment it's written on.

The problem isn't actually writing this letter, it's trying to think of a way for you to admit that it is I, Draco Abraxas Malfoy, your thirty year old counterpart. How about I start with the fact that I know you wish you switch sides, and I know that you are in love with the Gryffindor princess or you will be, though I suppose that if you haven't yet fallen for her then my saying that would have the opposite effect right now.

Sadly the best way to try and get you to believe me will be to show you. I can see your sarcastic smirk now asking how a letter is going to show you something. By that I simply meant that I am going to tell you something, and you will just have to wait for them to become true. This year, because of the failings of your father, you will be forced to become a Death Eater, as I said I hope this letter reaches you before you accept that. The choices are pretty much that or your mother will be dead. Once you become said Death Eater you will be charged with the task of killing Professor Dumbledore. Don't believe me? Just wait.

I'm going to hope you do believe me because I do not have all the time in the world to sit here and try to convince you that I am in fact you. I figured I would start off this letter by telling you why I believe you should listen to what I tell you in this letter, and then do exactly what I tell you. In order to do that, I must tell you about what your life will be like at the age of thirty if you continue on the path you are currently on.

As I have already informed you, I am thirty years old as I am writing this. I did not graduate from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry because after I allowed several Death Eaters into the school thanks to a magical wardrobe and after being unable to kill Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape killed him and we had to flee the grounds. My parents are both deceased, Lucius having been killed during the war that took place during what would have been Year Seven. Mother committed suicide when she realized that our lives would never take a turn for the better despite the fact that we helped Harry Potter in the end. I am unemployed and currently unemployable, much to my unhappiness. It seems that nobody trusts an ex Death Eater, even twelve years later. Shocker, right?

You should know that Severus is dead in the present time. He was attacked by Voldemort's snake, Nagini, and nobody was able to bring him back. We were too late and he had lost too much blood. By the time we figured out how to fix the wound, he was gone. The last thing that is imperative for you to know is that you have a daughter. Her name is Lydia and I daresay she is the most beautiful child I have ever laid eyes on.

I know that at your age you do not wish to think of having children, but you would love her, I'm certain. She was the byproduct of a drunken night with Hermione Granger after a charity ball when I was twenty-two. Unfortunately my life's failures led me to drinking and after pushing Hermione and causing her to go into labor I have had a restraining order against me. I am unable to go within 500 feet of my daughter, which sadly means I cannot watch her grow up as I wish I could.

I saw her today though. For the first time since she was three. She turns eight this year.

Anyway, enough yammering on about my present self. Let's get to the real reason behind this letter. The events in your life that I need you to change so that your life doesn't end up like mine has. Shall we start with the obvious one?

Soon you will be given the task of joining the Death Eaters. Your father is already in Azkaban, unfortunately I do not believe that if I had sent you this letter when you were fifteen you would have believed me so I cannot stop the many mistakes you've already made. Don't get huffy, you know as well as I do that if you don't already, you will one day regret the actions you have done.

So your first task, from your future self, is to refuse to join the Death Eaters. Your mother and father will both be subjected to death though honestly I doubt you will miss your father very much, but you can save so many others if you let your parents go. As soon as you turn down the chance to become one of his ranks, Voldemort will likely hurt you. Extremely. Hopefully Severus will be able to keep you alive though so that the rest of this letter can be achieved.

As soon as you can, set in search of Professor Dumbledore and ask for forgiveness. You will not only need his forgiveness but also his help and protection. You need to become a member of the Order of the Phoenix. I don't care how hard it is, or how hard you have to try. Do it. It may be the one thing that saves your life. Whether you go straight to Dumbledore or you use Severus as a middle man is up to you. Who knows, maybe Severus will even do the work for you because you'll probably be close to death by the time Voldemort is done with you. I apologize for that. But it is for the greater good.

After you get his help, apologize to Harry Potter. Swallow your bloody pride and do it because if he doesn't trust you, nobody else in the Order of the Phoenix will. I don't truly care if you get the weasel to like you, his opinion is of no consequence as far as I'm concerned, but Potter and Granger are two people that you need by your side if you wish to survive this war with some of your dignity intact.

Do whatever you have to do. Beg, grovel, any other synonyms for the action. I don't care if they humiliate you and tell you that the only way they will give you a chance is if you do their homework all year and spit shine their shoes. Do it.

If you follow these few steps laid out for you, you will be alone in the world for a time. Aside from Severus you will have nobody. No friends, no family. A House that won't trust you, the Order won't trust you. You will have to concentrate on your school work and making peace with the Golden Trio. I am entrusting you with this because I think you can be mature enough to handle it.

When the school year starts, ask if it is at all possible to either switch houses, or to be put somewhere else so that you will be safe. I don't trust the other Slytherins to not try and hurt you while you are asleep just as I'm sure you won't either. The only one to trust is Blaise, but even he won't be able to save you if the entire Slytherin house is up against you.

Do not let this letter fall into the wrong hands. Try your damndest not to tell anyone about this letter. If you must tell someone about it, do not go in depth. And only Severus can know. He's the only one I trust with this kind of information and I doubt he would want to know all of it. He's smart enough to know the consequences of interfering with time. I wish you the best of luck.

Sincerely,

Draco A. Malfoy

**Author's Note: So what do you think of the letter? I don't think I would really know how to write a letter to myself at a younger age, so it was somewhat difficult. But review and let me know, any suggestions or comments so I can make it better.**


	3. We Just Got A Letter

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, the only thing I still own is the plot. Characters belong to JK Rowling, title of the story belongs to Brad Paisley and title of the chapter belongs to whoever made Blue's Clues. :]

**Warnings:** This chapter contains a meeting with Voldy, you all know what that means. Blood, guts, rape, torture, the works. You have been warned. If you are squeamish I would suggest skipping over the last bit of the chapter.

**Chapter Three – We Just Got A Letter**

Standing alone in his room, his boot clad feet pacing the floor underneath him, Draco couldn't believe what was going on. His father had been put in Azkaban for being amongst Voldemort's minions and from what he'd overheard from Bellatrix, the Dark Lord was thinking of making him join the ranks as punishment for his father's mistakes. The boy grabbed the hair that continuously fell into his face and pulled at it, a pained growl leaving his throat. What was he supposed to do? He'd thought he wanted to join the Death Eaters, but ever since the stupid Golden Trio had thrown it in his face that the only reason he wanted to join was because he wanted 'daddy's approval' he had been honestly thinking about it.

Joining the Death Eaters would mean that he would be spared when the time came that the Dark Lord waged war on the side of the light. It also meant that he would constantly have the Cruciatus curse thrown at him just for the enjoyment of the man who was more snake than man. Was surviving worth being tortured for fun, or would he be better off taking his life somewhere else? He wasn't even sure whether what the Trio had said to him bothered him so much because it was true, or because he questioned if it was true. He'd been so confused all summer.

Laying back on his bed, he allowed his hands to fall from his hair, a few strands caught around the stone on his family ring and he tore them from his scalp without care. The wind rustled the parchment on the desk by his window and he groaned, the sound making him sound as though he were in torment. Did he really even have a choice in the matter? If the Dark Lord decided that he wanted Draco in his ranks, it wasn't as if the blonde was strong enough to fight him. The man terrified him in a way that not even the thought of Buckbeak killing him years ago had scared him.

"CAWW!"

With a thud, Draco fell off the bed onto the hardwood floor, his knee scraping against the bed frame enough that he hissed at the feeling of his skin peeling back. "What the bloody hell do you want?" He frowned at the black raven that sat on his window sill. "Well? Bloody bird. Get over here and give me that ruddy letter since you felt the need to scare the daylights out of me."

The bird flew over to where Draco was still on all fours, biting the boy's fingers as he took the letter that the bird held in its talons. "This better be worth it. Who sends a letter with a Raven anyway?" The envelope was black, the writing on the front Silver. He looked over the envelope, a simple _Draco Malfoy _writtenon the front. Grabbing his wand from the inside of his cloak he waved it over the missive, checking for curses or hexes that may have been put upon it to go off when opened. Sensing nothing untoward about the letter, he tore open the seal and sat back on his knees to read it, ignoring the burning sensation that his broken skin left.

_15 August 2010_

_Dear Draco,_

"2010?" he asked with a furrowed brow. "You've got to be kidding me." Despite thinking that whoever had written the letter was crazy for writing a date upon the top of the letter that wouldn't occur for over a decade, he continued to read it. At the very least he hoped that reading it would get his mind off of what was going on downstairs.

Skimming the letter he let out the smallest of huffs as he read that the writer presumed himself to be an older future version of Draco. He wouldn't believe it. He absolutely refused to believe the words that he was reading, despite the fact that the handwriting was much the same as his own now and that most of what was being written seemed true. At least the information about the present. He couldn't be sure of the future.

He'd just begun to rip the paper to shreds when he read over the first paragraph again. Whoever this person was, they knew about the Dark Lord's plan to make Draco join the ranks. As far as he knew, the man had only informed Bellatrix about his plans thus far.

He supposed someone could have overhead as he had though. Besides, why would he listen to this letter about turning down the job when the author informed him that his mother would not live if that were the choice he made. If the author were truly him then he would know that he would risk his mother for nothing. She was the only person in the world that he had complete faith in.

What he found to be most disturbing in the letter was the section in which the author described Lydia. He claimed that she was the daughter of not only a future Draco, but of Hermione Granger as well. If anything besides the comment about forfeiting his mother's life led him to believe the letter was faked, this was it. Not only could he not stand Hermione Granger, but she couldn't stand him either. There was no way, no matter the amount of alcohol, that they would have slept together and conceived a child. And on the off chance that they somehow did manage to sleep together, he didn't believe that he would want to see the girl so it wouldn't bother him if he had a restraining order.

"Draco, darling. Severus says you are needed downstairs." Stashing the letter under his pillow, Draco turned to look at the woman standing in his doorway. Even at her age she was still a beautiful woman. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a braid that had been pushed in front of her shoulder so it fell down the length of her torso. Her blue eyes, not unlike his own had few wrinkles around them from smiling though they didn't have many from frowning either. His mother was the epitome of collected when it came to her emotions. Rarely did he ever see anything that caused a true reaction in the older woman.

"Of course, mother. I will go down now." As we stepped downstairs he knew in his heart that this was the day. This was the day when he was going to be asked to join the Death Eaters. It wasn't the amount of them invading the house that gave it away, just like it wasn't the fact that he was being summoned downstairs. Those things happened all the time. Instead, it was the way his aunt looked at him as he walked into the room.

Bellatrix Lestrange had always been one of his least favorite people. He knew from accounts of family members and family friends that she had once been a beautiful girl, but he failed to see it. The woman's hair was far worse than the mudblood at school that he had to deal with even on a bad day, and where as at least hers had definition in the many highlights she had from spending time outdoors, Bella's was the blackest hair he had ever encountered. Even his godfather's hair didn't seem to suck up the sun and light in the room quite as much as the Lestrange woman. Sadly though, her hair wasn't even the reason why Draco could never call her pretty. Nor was the sallow look to her skin, the dark purple circles that never failed to appear no matter how much makeup she used to cover it up, or the ghastly long fingernails that she liked to scrape along surfaces so she could watch everyone in the room flinch. Her main failure was her eyes.

"Oh goodie. Drakie has finally decided to grace us with his presence. Aren't we all just so grateful that the son seems not to be quite as much of a failure as his father." At the moment, Madame Lestrange's eyes looked like they better belonged on a corpse than on a woman who was not far from his mother's age. "Let's hope that you manage to impress our lord, lest you receive a punishment far worse than death." Had he not looked up at her at that moment he would have missed the glowing in her eyes as she cackled over the thought of ruining the Malfoy heir's life.

Draco pushed past the woman without a word or backward glance and noticed how dark the room appeared. He assumed it was because the Dark Lord was not a fan of light and much preferred the darkness, but he never could understand why. Black robes and white masks filled in the room in a large circle though they parted when he drew near. He couldn't see who was there, but he knew that McNair, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, Nott, Yaxley, Pettigrew, and all of the usuals would be there. One of the masked figures walked up behind him and put a hand on the back of his neck, pushing him so he fell to his knees in front of the red-eyed man at the front of the room. "Ahh, young master Malfoy," the man hissed. "What a pleasure it is to see that you are capable of answering summons in a timely manner."

Draco looked up from where his head had landed close to the floor. He could tell just by looking at the shoes that the man who had pushed him was his godfather. _Thank god for small favors, _he thought with a frown. At the very least he knew better than to speak without permission so he stayed silent, looking at his godfather's ankles.

"It is our pleasure to allow you to join the ranks of our beloved friends," the Dark Lord hissed once more. At his words, Draco was suddenly brought back to the letter sitting under his pillow. Quickly closing his mind against the thought as Severus had taught him he waited for the conversation to continue. "Tell me, Draco, do you wish to join our ranks. I'm sure you are aware that this entails that you would be allowed to come to our revels, not to mention you would be tasked with important missions. You would be the only child your age to be allowed in. I have special plans for you, my boy." Again his thoughts were brought back to the letter on his bed. Could it be right, were those special plans that he was meant to infiltrate the school and murder the headmaster?

"I – I," Draco wasn't sure when he had lost his ability to speak, but he looked up in time to see his aunt standing over him cackling. The choice was his, he knew. He could join the Death Eaters. His mother would be safe from harm, but he would probably be told to kill Albus Dumbledore among others. His mother would be safe, but he would be summoned to revels where he knew that they not only killed but tortured and raped innocent young girls, witches and muggles alike. His mother would be safe, but he would be in danger every waking moment of his life. His mother would be safe. But Draco Malfoy was a coward. "I do not wish to join the ranks at this time, my lord," he said honestly.

_What have you just done?_

You could hear a pin drop in the room before a rustling came from where his aunt Bella was standing. "My lord please allow me to show him what we do to insolent fools like him. To traitors and the like. Let me show my nephew that we don't take kindly to stupid boys who follow in their father's footsteps."

With a wave of his hand and a flick of his wrist, two things happened at once. Bellatrix stalked closer to Draco, her eyes boring into him as she thought about how she would like to torture him best. Also, one of the masked figures walked further into the room, a bound woman deposited at his feet before walking to join the circle again.

Fear in his eyes, Draco looked over in time to see that the woman lying prone on the ground was in fact his mother, hogtied like she were nothing more than a piece of meat. He had to turn away as with another flick of the man's wrist his minions rounded on his mother, snatching her clothes off and spreading her into an X shape before taking their turns molesting the woman. Despite having turned away, he could still hear the screams issuing forth out of her lungs as she tried to implore the men to leave her alone.

Finally seeing how to best torture him at the moment, Bellatrix bound him in ropes much the same way his mother had been and then turned him so he was standing and facing the men ravishing his mother. With another flick of her wand, Bellatrix had forced his eyes open, forced him to watch as his mother was brutally raped by multiple men at a time. It was nearly twenty minutes before he watched the light dim in his mother's eyes, the pain too great for her to comply with anymore. "Do you wish to join us now?" Bella asked sweetly, running her lips behind Draco's ear as she petted his hair.

A single glare later he laughed humorlessly. "If anything that made me want to join your stupid cause even less. What would possibly make me wish to join you after you murdered my mother in front of me? You are all sick. You're disgusting. You think because you're purebloods and half-bloods that you are better than everyone else. Why? Because you rape people? Because you torture people? That doesn't make you better than them, that makes you weaker. The fact that you have to hurt people, try and make them fear you so that they will comply with your demands. That's a sign of weakness. But nobody is as weak as your leader. The snake-man. After all, he doesn't do anything, does he? Just sits in his chair pretending he's a real human and commands others to perform his dirty work. You all make me sick." At the end of his speech he looked away from Bella, her jaw having developed a tick in it at his words, and turned to face Lord Voldemort. "You make me sick." With his last words he spat at the man's feet before getting ready to aim at the man's face.

He wasn't able to complete the last bit however, for as soon as he made eye contact with the man he felt his body seize in pain. The man hadn't even moved his lips but he was performing a more powerful Crucio than anybody in his ranks had ever managed. It lasted long enough that Draco actually started to get used to the pain, but as soon as he did the curse let up. His breathing was ragged, but he was still alive. With only a few bruises and cuts. His breathing had returned to normal for only ten seconds before another "crucio" was sent his way. It happened over and over again, waiting for Draco to get used to the pain before letting up just long enough for him to think it was over before doing it again.

After the sixth time or so, the blonde gave up fighting. His bowels had released along with his bladder, he was covered in excrete and urine not to mention the blood that covered him from head to toe. His eyes rolled back in his head as he felt more of his bones break, he'd been counting and he was sure that at least a hundred and twelve of the two hundred and six in his body had been broken. Counting them had been the only thing keeping his mind off the pain. Not only had they broken, but some of them had pierced through the boy's flesh, other's piercing through his internal organs rendering him near death. By the time the seventh dose of the curse came his way, he'd welcomed the darkness that filtered his vision and passed out completely.


	4. Broken Man

**Disclaimer: **Shoutouts to JK Rowling for writing HP [again], I will be forever in her debt. Also to Brad Paisley for his song "Letter To Me" and to Boys Like Girls for their song "Broken Man" which is what I listened to while I was thinking of a title for this chapter.

**Author's Note: **Surprise.. two chapters in one day. The reason for this being that my best friend is moving into my house which means that I will not be going over to her house anymore.. since I use the internet at her house I'm not sure when I am going to be going on the internet again in the near future.. so I'm going ahead and posting it now for you. That's your bonus. And thank you to the two people who have reviewed the last chapter.

**Chapter Four – Broken Man**

"What do you mean we have to allow him into Grimmauld Place? You cannot be serious. If anything that is the absolute worst idea you have ever had in your life, and I doubt that anyone would disagree with me." Twelve pairs of eyes turned to look at the boy speaking in front of the group, all varying shades of colors as they waited to see if he would have anything more to add. "Right? Who all agrees with me that this is the worst idea of the century?"

The boy sat down, his red hair falling into his face which he pushed away with a frustrated huff when nobody raced to raise their hands. "Oh come on, people. Just because he turned down the invitation from You-Know-Who doesn't mean that he's worth his salt. You're all mad if you think that that bloody ferret deserves to be let in to the Order."

With an annoyed growl a raven haired man near the back of the room called out the folly of what the boy had just said. "I never presumed he would be allowed in on the Order. I simply stated that he needs to be allowed access to Grimmauld Place. Believe it or not the boy needs protection. The only reason he is still alive is because I brought the knowledge to the Dark Lord that he would be worse off knowing that his actions had been the reason for his mother's death than he would be if he were simply killed for his insolence."

"Well that's just it, what do we care if he's dead or not. It's not like he's a good person."

"Ron!" A gasp escaped the lips of the girl sitting to the right of the redhead. "Now granted I agree that Malfoy is not the nicest of people, he doesn't deserve anyone's trust and has, as of yet, to show that he is worthy of being called anything but a coward. I agree with all of that. But to say that you don't care if he's dead or not simply because he's a jerk is frankly immature. Saying that makes you no better than he is." Done admonishing the boy for the moment, the girl turned to look at the man in the back. "Professor, why does it have to be Grimmauld Place? Would be not be safe enough at Hogwarts?"

"Unfortunately, Miss Granger, since it is still the summer holidays, there is not enough protection at the castle for the boy. With the Order members here most of the time, or at the Burrow, it is the only thing I can think of to ensure his safety. As much as nobody in this room likes or respects him, he can be an asset."

Hermione Granger, resident know-it-all and the only girl in the infamous Golden Trio, bit her lip as she was wont to do when she was thinking deeply about a complex problem. "So he would just be allowed into the house? He would have no jurisdiction in meetings and we wouldn't actually have to see him unless we needed information?" The professor, along with everyone else in the room, knew that she was only asking those questions for her best friend's sake, but they were all curious about the answers.

"Correct."

"Actually, Miss Granger, it is only correct to a point." Once again twelve pairs of eyes turned to the front of the room where there now stood a wizard who had been around longer than some history texts. "For most of the people in this room, what you asked is correct. However, I fear we need your assistance more than most."

"Albus, I told you that I can take care of things," Professor Snape started as he frowned at his mentor. "I do not wish to engage him with anymore stress that is strictly necessary."

"Be that as it may, and while I respect your wishes for Mr. Malfoy's recovery, I must disagree." At the sound of rumblings coming from the small crowd in front of him, Albus Dumbledore, current headmaster of Hogwarts held up a single hand, quieting the group. "Miss Granger here is the only person in this room that has the time _and _ the skills necessary to see to the boy's recovery. He has received multiple wounds not only from the curses that Tom Riddle threw his way, but those of the other Death Eaters after the man was through with him and before Severus could get him to relative safety." The old man's eyes, which usually held a twinkle as though he knew something that no one else did, were dimmed as he thought of the boy lying in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. "Nearly all of the bones in his body were broken and many wounded the organs they are meant to protect. Sadly the Death Eaters are proficient in Dark Magic and many of the wounds he sustained are unable to be healed using magic."

With a resigned sigh, Professor Snape continued where the man had left off. "What he means to say is that while the Aurors and Molly would be able to help on a normal basis, Miss Granger is the only one among us with extensive knowledge in both magic and muggle healing. She is also the only one that will have time over the summer to see over the healing process. If it were not too much trouble I would humbly appreciate your acceptance."

Hermione sat there, baffled. Not only were they asking for her help to heal Draco Malfoy, her main adversary for five years now, but Professor Snape had asked for her help. The same professor that many believed had no feelings whatsoever, the same man who had made fun of her nearly every day since the first time they had met when she was eleven, was asking for her help. Were she not the type of person that was obsessed with figuring out the mysteries of the universe, she would have said no. Any intelligent person would have said no to the request. But Hermione couldn't help herself. Perhaps she had been spending too much time with Harry and was picking up bits of his hero complex, but she couldn't allow anyone to go without help when they truly needed it.

"Fine, but if I help him, I am doing things my way."

"Of course, Miss Granger. We would never dare encroach upon your territory." Albus' eyes had resumed some of their twinkle as he looked at the young witch in front of him. "And now that that's settled, onto more pressing matters."

By the time the meeting was adjourned, the house had quieted down on the issue of Draco Malfoy needing their help. Not that the group as a whole was pleased, but if Hermione was willing to set her time aside to try and shape the boy up then there was really nothing they could do to stop her. Short of kicking her out of the house too, which Harry, owner of the house, would never do.

It was another hour or so before there was a knock on the front door, riling Mrs. Black's portrait up as she went on about no good half-bloods and blood traitors, throwing in a few insults for the muggle-born of the group as well. When the door opened, a stern looking Snape stood with a bruised and battered boy practically dangling off his shoulder. "Where shall I put him?"

The frizzy haired witch who was to be in charge of his recovery pushed to the front of the crowd of onlookers and made eye contact with her professor. "This way, sir. I just finished making up the room that he'll be staying in."

Snape levitated the body of the unconscious boy up the stairs and into the room that Hermione pointed out. "I have the potions that you will need to administer with me, and I will need you to inform me when you run low on supplies so that I may make more. If you give me a list of the muggle devices and medications you will need I will see about getting you those by day's end also." He lay the boy on the bed and then walked to the doorway. "I hope you understand that as his nurse I am putting you in charge of all responsibilities. Spells you need to perform for his bodily functions are up to you, as is finding a way of cleaning him. While scourgify would be fine once in a while, you know as well as I do that it is not sufficient all the time. I gave him a dreamless sleep potion earlier, it should wear off anytime now." With that said he walked out of the door and down the stairs to join in the general chaos that was Order HQ.

Hermione sighed and turned to the boy laying on the bed in front of her. He'd been bandaged up well my Madame Pomfrey and seemed to have a fresh pair of clothes on, but the blood from his wounds was already starting to seep through, turning the bandages a rust color and the clothes seemed to be faring no better. "Professor, I need those potions," she called downstairs to where she knew Professor Snape would have set himself up. She heard a quick conversation downstairs and then the next thing she knew the potion vials were floating up to the landing where she was. "Thank you," she called down in reply. Walking back into the bedroom she looked back down at Malfoy. "Well you certainly did a bang up job of trying to get yourself killed." Had he been awake, Hermione would have been terribly embarrassed that she was making small talk, but she felt strange playing nursemaid and talking was the one thing that usually eased her nerves.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione began pulling off his clothes. She'd only managed to get his shirt off, taking in the look of his pale skin covered in scars and bruises but still showing off the muscles he must have gotten from playing Quidditch. "How is it that someone so mean can look so good?" Hermione heard someone say behind her. She turned around to see her best girlfriend, Ginny Weasley standing behind her.

"I was just thinking the same thing, actually," Hermione told her.

"Of course you were. He's hot. Too bad he's a right git. Actually, I always wondered if what they say about him is true. He's seems awfully pretty to be into girls if you know what I mean." Ginny laughed and then was shooed from the room when Hermione realized that she was going to need to take off the boys' pants.

"Here goes nothing," said the young woman. She kicked the door closed behind her so that there would be at least some semblance of privacy should Malfoy wake up in the midst of the undressing. Not From what she had been told, Madame Pomfrey had managed to shift his bones around so that none of the broken bones were piercing through his skin or organs anymore. No doubt it was more painful to have his bones sitting at unnatural angles, but the internal parts of his body needed to heal just as much as his bones did. Knowing that moving him around would cause him no small amount of pain while his bones were shifted the way they were, Hermione grabbed a pair of scissors out of the drawer to her right and starting at his ankle began cutting his pants along the seams.

She cut along both sides and then proceeded to pull at the material like it was a diaper. Sliding it out from under his body she blushed as she looked down at the boy laying in just his boxers. She was no prude having grown up as a muggle she had seen plenty of movies that showed men in various states of undress. But she had never seen one up close before. The most she had ever seen had been Harry or Ron taking off their shirts after a grueling game of Quidditch or working in the yard with the gnomes. Had he not been covered in blood and grime she would have thought that he was indeed one of the best looking boys she had ever encountered. However, seeing as it was Draco Malfoy she knew that not only could she not admit it out loud, she couldn't admit it internally either. His personality took too many points away from his overall looks.

Pulling out a notebook that she had placed in the nightstand she began writing down everything she could think of that she would need to begin the healing process. _Plaster bandages, needles, sutures, bandages. _She continued to write down everything she could think of, stopping only when she heard a weak moan. Coming out of her thoughts she turned to her patient, his gray-blue eyes finding hers before closing in shame. "I'd been hoping I was dead," he replied when he reopened his eyes. "Perhaps I am. I suppose I deserve hell. Why am I undressed?"

Before the girl could answer, her two best friends walked into the room without so much as a greeting to the blonde on the bed. Hermione quickly pulled the blanket over Malfoy's half-naked body so that the boys wouldn't question why she had been staring at him for so long. "Hi 'Mione. We came to check on you. Make sure that the Death Eater hadn't killed you. Though we were also told to check that you hadn't killed him yet either." Ron fumed as he finally looked over to where his adversary lay prone on the bed. "Pity you didn't. It'd surely make things easier. How fast do you think you can patch him up?"

"Well based on the look of him, assuming that it's true that magic won't heal them, I'd say he'll be down for the count for at least six weeks. He'll still be wearing casts for a while after that though. Can you run this list down to Professor Snape, please?" she asked with a smile. The boy grinned back at her before doing as he was told leaving her with just Harry and Draco.

"You really want to spend six weeks playing nurse to Malfoy? We have better things to do, this year, Hermione." Harry turned to look at Draco and frowned. "Besides, how do we even know we can trust him?"

"Believe it or not, _he_ can hear you perfectly fine, bloody git."

"Malfoy, shut up. Harry, stop talking about him as though he isn't here. No I don't want to spend six weeks playing nurse, but I am going to anyway. Professors Snape and Dumbledore think that I can do it, and I can always use the experience. Think about it Harry. There's a war going on. We're going to need as many healers as we can get. Spending this time taking care of him will ensure that I will be better able to handle things if ever we can't get to Madame Pomfrey for some reason."

As much as Harry was loathe to admit it, Hermione was right. They needed as many people that could heal others as they could get. "Fine. But the second you can, I want every bit of information you can drag out of his sorry arse about Voldemort's plans. Everything he can think of that might help us. I don't care if you have to learn Leglimency and scour his brain to do it. I want that information." Without another word Harry turned on his heel and left the room, leaving behind a flustered and furious boy and girl, respectively.

"Who does he think he is thinking he can talk to you like that? You actually put up with that? You're worse off than I thought you were," Draco commented when he looked over at Hermione biting her lip. "Were you serious about my having to wear.. what did you call them? Casts? For six weeks?"

"At least. The wreckage of your body is extreme. Ribs, one of your legs, both of your arms, most of your toes and fingers. They're all broken. Which I'm sure you know because I doubt that you're not feeling pain right now." Hermione turned away from Draco, busying herself with getting his potions in order.

"The amount of pain I'm in right now feels like a relaxing massage compared to how I was a few days ago," he answered truthfully.

Hermione didn't say anything, just handed him a potion that was helping to fix his organs. She tried not to think about what he must have gone through at the hands of his father's friends. Walking over to where she'd lain the clothes he came in she began going through the pockets so she could take them down to the wash. Her hands brushed against a slip of parchment and she grabbed it, opening it before she could think better of it.

_15 August 2010_

_Dear Draco,_

She looked behind her to see that Malfoy's eyes had closed and his breathing had relaxed, having fallen asleep to avoid the pain any longer. Her eyes were brought back to the page as she scanned it quickly looking for any mention of what could be current Death Eater activities. Though she began reading far slower when she came across her own name on the page.

"Hermione!"

Before Hermione could read why her name was on a piece of parchment that had come out of Draco Malfoy's pockets she was called downstairs. She thought of bringing the page downstairs with her so that she could read it when she got the chance, or perhaps show it to Harry and Ron, but she had the overwhelming urge to put it back. Even she didn't seem to want to read it any longer. Perhaps the paper was only a letter stating that the Dark Lord had put a price on her head. It wouldn't surprise her any. Folding the paper back into a square as she'd found it, she slipped it back into the pocket of Malfoy's jeans and skipped downstairs, forgetting at once that the letter had been written 14 years in the future.


	5. Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?

**Disclaimer: **Let's hear it for JK Rowling for her original plot that helped mine out, also to Brad Paisley for his song that led to the title and plot of my story, and to The Pierces for their song "Secret" which I used for the title of this chapter.

**Author's Note:** I just had to go back and fix a few spots in the last chapter, I apologize if I missed them in the chapters before that but I just remembered that I am writing them at 16. Having just remembered that sixteen year olds are not legally allowed to do magic outside of school I had to make them do everything by hand. Oopsie. Hehe. Also, I am aware that they were not at Grimmauld Place during the summer between fifth and sixth years, but since I already wrote it that way I decided to just keep it rather than changing every little mention of Sirius' house.

**Chapter Five – **Got a Secret, Can You Keep It?

It had been a full week since Draco had been brought to The Burrow and put under the care of Hermione Granger. A full week where he had been questioned mercilessly by her two companions and by everyone else that stepped through the front door of the house. A full seven days since he had seen the outside world. A full seven days on bed rest. Not just bed rest, but completely bed ridden.

"I don't suppose there's anyway you are going to allow me to get up and shower?" he asked as Hermione walked into the room carrying a bucket of warm water and a sponge. "I know I'm not supposed to stand or get these cast things wet, but surely there are spells for that. I can sit in the tub and you can put a spell on the casts so they repel the water. I know you're capable."

"I am capable. But you must have forgotten. We're not actually old enough to be doing magic. I would much rather have to go through the misery of bathing you personally than being expelled from school. So if you don't mind, could you please shut up and let me get on with it." The sponge dropped into the bucket with a loud _plop _and Malfoy had to stifle his groan. "What now?"

The entire week that he had been in her care she had been slowly losing her temper with him. It seemed no matter what she did he found something to complain about. Not that this was surprising, but she had hoped that by now he would have just realized that there was nothing they could do if he wanted to survive. "Can I wash myself instead?"

"You can't even more your arms," Hermione exclaimed with an exasperated look on her face. Draco's eyes were downcast and he softened his voice as though chastised.

"Please, Granger."

It was to be the first time that he would be washed by a sponge instead of a wand and he was turning it down. She couldn't understand what had made the boy who was usually so vain about his appearance decide that looking his best could wait as long as it meant that the Gryffindor wouldn't be the one washing him. "Fine. I'll go get Professor Snape. He wanted to talk to you anyway."

He listened to her walk down the stairs and then another set of footsteps walk back up the stairs, these ones far heavier than the previous. "Hello, godfather," he replied when the dark figure came to stand in the doorway. "She said you wished to speak with me?"

"I do. But first may I ask why it is that you do not wish to be washed?"

Draco's normally pale skin turned a pretty pink color as he once again looked at his lap. Trying to find the words he finally settled on asking his godfather a question instead. "Have you ever had a girl your age give you a sponge bath?"

"So you're embarrassed? That's highly unusual." The man's deep timbre held none of its usual bite and instead just sounded tired. There had been another meeting last night for both the Order and the Death Eaters and the tall man had been present at both. It must have been exhausting being a spy for both the dark and the light.

"Well this is a highly unusual situation," Draco snapped. Sighing he straighten his back as well as he could without hurting himself and met the black eyes of his godfather. "I'm not embarrassed of her seeing me, if that's what you're thinking. I just.. I received a letter before the ceremony." His voice trailed off as he thought about what to tell the man who had been a better father to him than his own. Were it any other letter he would have told the man all about it, but he also knew what could happen if the wrong people found out about the future.

"Are you speaking of the letter that I retrieved from your bed?" After a curious look from the blonde, Professor Snape continued with what he was saying. "The letter that claimed to be from the future, addressed to you from yourself? I saw it under your pillow when I went to gather your possessions and brought it with you. It should be in the pocket of the pants your wore here."

"Yes, that letter. Did you read it?"

"I didn't feel it was my place to read such a letter."

Draco let out a relieved breath and then shrugged. The man already knew about the letter, and from what he could tell it wasn't as if anything other than the first part was going to be able to come true anyway. He doubted that the Golden Trio would ever allow him to become one of their companions and he doubted even more that Hermione Granger in all her infinite wisdom would seek him out in a romantic notion. "I suppose there's no harm in telling you the part that bothers me," he began. He'd read the letter only twice but he already had the important parts memorized. "The letter spoke of my future if I were to continue going on about my path of joining the Dark Lord. It said that my life would be miserable. I would never reach happiness."

Severus Snape waited in silence for his godson to continue his thoughts. He had no doubt that at the very least, that part of the letter was true. Only the truly evil acquired happiness by working for the Dark Lord. Draco had never been one of the truly evil, just misguided. "It also said that by the time I was thirty I would have an eight year old daughter."

When Draco didn't continue for a few moments Severus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I fail to see what would possibly bother you about that. Is it the fact that you would have a daughter first? The fact that you are not ready to have children? By the sounds of it, it won't happen until you're in your twenties. What bothers you about it right now?"

"Hermione Granger was the mother. Is the mother. I don't even know which tense to use when speaking of it. But thinking of Granger being the mother of my child makes me think about Granger being pregnant, which makes me think about Granger having sex, which makes me think about Granger being naked, which is why I absolutely cannot allow Granger to wash me."

"If you say Granger one more time I am going to permanently silence you and then force her to come in here and wash you," Draco's chest was heaving as Severus looked him in the eye. "You mean to tell me that the reason you don't wish for the girl to do her job and clean you is because you're afraid that you're going to get hard and she's going to notice?"

"That wouldn't bother you?" Draco's voice sounded just on the edge of panic. "She's grown up. I mean, I always knew that we were all growing up since we're obviously the same age, but it's like now that I'm allowed to not hate her she actually looks female. Feminine. It's driving me crazy."

* * *

"Oi, what do you think is keeping Snape up there so long?" Ron asked as him, Harry, Hermione and Ginny sat on a couch in one of the rooms that had been cleaned out.

"Who knows. Hopefully he's giving him the bath that I was supposed to give him though. Would you believe that the boy who can't even more his arms asked me if he could wash himself today? Wash himself! And not only that, he actually said please." Hermione crossed her arms in front of her as she leaned back into the cushions, Ginny leaning back with her and resting her head on Hermione's shoulder.

"Maybe he's scared of you seeing him naked," Ginny suggested.

The words were barely out of his sister's mouth when Ron started glaring, his face turning almost as red as his hair. "'Mione will not be looking at him naked. There's no need for it. He'd probably try and seduce her or something which we all know he can do. Hell there are those rumors that he's part veela."

Harry actually laughed at his friend's words and shook his head. "Malfoy is not a veela, Ron, he's merely a pretty boy."

"Pretty is one word for it," Ginny and Hermione said conspiratorially at the same time. They looked at each other and giggled as now not only Ron's face turned red but Harry's started to match it. "Last time I checked pretty is not the word to describe that delectable piece of meat laying in that bed up there." Ginny continued to laugh as her brother and her friend got angrier with every word. "Even Hermione was drooling, which we all know she would never do with a mere _pretty boy._"

Hermione blushed prettily and punched Ginny in the shoulder. "Shut up, I was not drooling. I was simply assessing his attributes."

"Assessing whose attributes?" asked a voice behind them and they all turned to see the Weasley matron standing there with her hands on her hips. "I doubt that Mr. Malfoy would appreciate the way you girls are talking about him as though he were meat on a slab instead of a misled boy." Hermione blushed harder and even Ginny stopped talking and toned down her smile. "Now if you are finished gossiping, there are still plenty of rooms that need cleaning. Get to it."

The four teenagers stood up from their respective seats and found one of the rooms that had yet to be clean, grabbing one of the buckets that Mrs. Weasley had set out for them and began scrubbing away dust bunnies and cobwebs that were caked on furniture and in corners.

"Do you really think that the girls look at him like that? Or do you think they were just saying that to bother us?" Harry asked Ron wish a frown on his face. His green eyes looked almost hurt as he thought about the girl he had a crush on crushing on a guy like Malfoy. He'd watched her go out with plenty of other guys before and it had always hurt, but never nearly as much as it did to think that she might like someone who constantly picked on her. Was it true that girls always went for the jerks? Wasn't there some exception to the rule where the nice guy got the girl?

"I don't know. But for Malfoy's sake they better have been kidding." Where Harry looked hurt at the thought of his crush liking Malfoy, Ron simply looked angry. The thought of Hermione actually finding anything of value in Malfoy, even if it were purely physical made his skin crawl. There was no way that his Hermione, the girl of his dreams, could find the Death Eater anything but repulsive. He'd see to it.

* * *

"No I don't think I would really have to worry about being in such an uncompromising situation with Miss Granger," Snape's lip quirked at the boy in the bed. "You however, are a hormonal teenager and therefore I can see where it may be a bit of a problem. I can give you a potion if you like, so that it won't happen." Draco perked up, his eyes widening as his godfather said this. "There's a downside to the potion, though."

"Please, anything to stop from getting embarrassed around someone who is supposed to be my mortal enemy. I'll do anything. I don't care about the downsides."

Snape thought about shrugging, but he had been raised better. Shrugging was an act of low intelligence, or so his mother had always said. "You may care to hear the downside before jumping to conclusions. It will help you not to be caught in such a position, but only because it will make it impossible for you to get hard at all."

Thinking that that probably wasn't going to be a problem for quite a while, since even when he went back to school he doubted any girls would want to be with him Draco bit his lip. "For how long?"

"About six months. Again though, that's not the problem either."

_Not the problem? Six months without the pleasurable feeling that he got when thinking of a woman naked. Six months without there being a point to touching himself? Not the problem? Then just what the bloody hell was the problem?_

"Alas, the problem is when the potion wears off. Your libido will go into.. hyperdrive, if you will. You'll be insatiable for a while."


	6. You're Hot, Then You're Cold

**Disclaimer:**Would you believe six chapters in and I still own nothing? Hmpf.

**Author's Note:** I want to thank everyone that favorited or alerted this story despite the fact that I haven't written in months. You guys made me want to pick back up again. Since it has been a few months though, I apologize if the writing isn't up to par right away.

**Chapter Six – **You're Hot Then You're Cold

Draco sat back against the pillows with a resigned sigh. He'd gone ahead and told his godfather to make the potion that was going to effectively shut down his libido for months on end, thereby making it easier for Granger to perform the duties entrusted to her. But he still couldn't believe he'd actually gone through with it. _Merlin, am I really that bloody desperate not to get a stiffy around the bookworm?_

Apparently so.

"Dinner time, Malfoy."

_Speak of the devil. _

Hermione walked into the room carrying a tray loaded down with bread and bowls. "I didn't actually think to ask if you're allergic to anything." He watched her worry her lip between her teeth and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. Seeing the blonde giving her an expression not unlike she gave Ron when she was annoyed with him, her lip pulled away from her teeth with a soft 'pop'. "Well beef stew is what was made. So if you're allergic I suppose you can just eat the bread."

She set the tray down on top of the dresser at the foot of his bed and walked over to where he was laying prostrate on the mattress. "Give me your hand." Brows knitting together, Draco inched his hand forward slightly until it touched her fingertips. Grabbing it, she pulled him forward and set a pillow behind him so he could sit up farther.

"Ach!" Draco's whole body protested to being moved as it was, but having angered Granger, with whatever he had done this time, had caused her to drop his hand back onto the bed unceremoniously, his broken hand making contact with the bedframe harder than he'd anticipated. The pain shooting up his arm and into his shoulder, then down his spine. "You know sometimes I think I'd really rather be with Voldemort and the gang than with you. At least I know for a fact that they'll hurt me. You run so hot and cold I never know what you're going to do. Which I'm sure is what you intended in the first place."

The brunette stood inches away from him, looking down at the top of his head as he bit the inside of his cheek against the pain and had to fight the angry tears starting to blur her eyes. _Stop it, Hermione. You don't cry. You're not a crier. You're not emotional. Don't let him get to you like this. He always yells at you, since when does it bother you so much?_ She figured it was since she had started playing nursemaid. It was one thing to be insulted when you weren't doing anything to deserve it. It was another thing to be insulted when all you were trying to do was help someone out.

"I'm sorry. I didn't intend to hurt you. I-" Hermione took a breath in through the nose, releasing it out of her mouth before she looked at him again. It would do no good to let her temper show through. Best to just come up with a reasonable excuse and get it over with. Only five more weeks until they would be done with each other anyway. "I forget that despite the potions you're probably still in pain." Okay so it wasn't much of a lie in the end. "You never complain about the pain, or at least not while I'm around. Not since you mentioned that the amount of pain you're in was practically a vacation."

The pain slowly began to lessen as his body became accustomed to the angle that he was pulled into. Though he was still far from being comfortable. "Can we just get on with dinner so I don't have to listen to your rambling any longer?" He watched as the brunette girl flushed with embarrassment but he couldn't find it in himself to care at the moment.

She nodded and placed a tray down on his lap, sitting on the edge of the bed near his feet. "Do you believe you're capable of moving enough to eat? Or do you need help?"

He noticed that she didn't ask if he needed someone to feed him and felt a small twinge of thankfulness. It was bad enough that she was playing caretaker, he wasn't sure if he would be able to stand it if she treated him like the invalid that he'd become.

"I may -" Draco cleared his through in aggitation. "I may need some help still." To Hermione's credit she didn't say anything as she scooted closer on the bed, lifting a spoonful of the beef stew out of the bowl and placing it close enough for him to swallow. Another couple of spoonfuls later and Draco was already full, but Hermione wasn't letting up. "Perhaps you've never had to deal with feeding someone before, Granger, but for future reference, when the person you're attempting to feed turns their head away it is not an invitation to try and shove the food down their throat. It is in fact loosely translated to 'I don't want anymore of your bloody food. Get that sodding spoon out of my face.'" He sneered at her when she narrowed her eyes at him. "But as I said.. that's just a rough translation."

"How about this for a rough translation, Malfoy. I have in fact babysat for plenty of children in my own neighborhood and I know exactly what a small child turning their head away means. However, I had been informed prior to my coming up here that you requested a potion from Professor Snape. A potion that was supposed to make both your life, and mine, easier while you're here."

Draco brought his eyes up to meet hers when she mentioned the potion that Professor Snape was supposed to be making for him. Had the older man told her what kind of potion it was? Had she overheard? Was that why she was trying to be so difficult tonight? Because she knew how his traitorous body reacted to her now that he'd read over what he now referred to as The Letter?

"Wow. The look on your face, if only I had a camera." The brunette giggled softly. "I am really curious as to what this potion is now. But you can get that look off your face that says you're going to pee yourself if I find out your secret. Professor Snape didn't inform me what kind of potion it was, and I wasn't able to figure it out based on the look or smell of it. All I know is that he told me to make you finish everything in the bowl, and the bread, before giving it to you. So -" Hermione was just about to put the spoon back into the bowl when she was suddenly pulled forward. Draco's mouth had wrapped around the spoon, his teeth pulling it forward before it could move out of his reach.

"'Mione?" Hermione turned her head to look at Ginny who had just stepped into the room. "Why is your hand on Malfoy's thigh? I thought there were rules against that kind of thing with your own patient." Hermione's brow furrowed as she looked down to where her hand had indeed settled on Malfoy's upper thigh. She pulled it away like it burned to the touch, her face turning bright red.

Ginny's tinkling laugh reached out and took the bowl and spoon from Hermione's hands. "Professor Snape wanted you downstairs. Something about not being able to send the potion up via magic because it's volatile or something." She shrugged. "Who knows. I never actually listen to him, which is probably why I'm doing so abysmally in his class. Anyway, I'll finish up here. You just go down and see what he wants."

It wasn't until Hermione left the room that Ginny began feeding the rest of the beef stew to the boy who had made her best friends' lives hell since the day they started Hogwarts. She didn't say anything until the bowl was cleaned and she had placed the bread in his mouth. "So what's this secret potion that the bat is working on for you?" Draco's glare practically had a voice of it's own, but she didn't let it discourage her. "It must be pretty important considering he went out of his way to mask the color and scent from Hermione." Again, a glare was all that responded. With her second shrug in the last few minutes, Ginny picked up the tray. "I saw the look of pain on your face when I came into the room. Considering she keeps everyone updated on your progress, I know you aren't hurt there. I also know that she isn't heavy so it couldn't have been her weight hurting you."

Draco's mouth opened to tell her to mind her own business when Hermione stepped back into the room. The vial of potion in her hand held carefully so that even if she were to trip, she would be able to keep it safe from harm. Ginny stood up with a knowing smirk and went to the doorway, tray in hand. She watched as Hermione stepped closer and uncorked the vial, placing the lip of it against Draco's lip so that it wouldn't spill when she gave it to him. "Hey Malfoy," the redhead called out just before the liquid could spill into his mouth. "It's okay to think she's pretty."

With another tinkling laugh, Ginny left the room and headed down the stairs while Hermione poured the liquid into Draco's mouth. Once again her face took on a flushed color, though the look on her face told her that this time it was because of annoyance rather than embarrassment. "Don't listen to her," she said, knowing that if they had been speaking about a girl it was probably herself, and knowing that Ginny was no doubt trying to play matchmaker.

"I wasn't planning on it," he said before shutting his eyes and letting the potion do it's magic.


	7. My Scars Remind Me That The Past Is Real

**Disclaimer: **Once again I must stress that I still own nothing. Which is a pity, because I bet it would be a lot of fun to own Draco for a while. ;D Also, _Scars_ belongs to Papa Roach. Also, _Chicks Dig It_ belongs to Chris Cagle.

**Author's Note:** I know I posted two chapters in one week [hooray me] but unfortunately you guys should look at that as the exception. I told one reviewer that I wasn't going to post chapter six until I had started on chapter seven.. but so many people were alerting and adding as a favorite that I put the cart before the horse. So needless to say, I have to catch up. Hopefully I'll be able to do one chapter a week. Hopefully.

**Chapter Seven – **My Scars Remind Me That The Past Is Real

"How do you think he's faring up there?" Ginny asked as she looked over at her best friend. It had been a week since Malfoy had been given the potion that none of the teenagers knew the purpose of. The redhead didn't actually like the guy, but she knew that it would be hell to have to stay in bed for that long with nothing to do and no one to talk to. She'd be driven mad if it were her.

"Who cares, Gin." Ginny looked over at her brother who was shoveling eggs into his mouth, holding onto a handful of bacon that he looked ready to shovel in as well. "As long as he's still alive then Hermione is doing her job, aint she? She wasn't told to entertain the stupid git."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the siblings and went back to reading the Daily Prophet that she held in her hands. "I'm sure he's bored. But there really isn't much I can do about it at this point." Placing her finger on the sentence where she'd stopped reading she folded the newspaper in half so she could see the redhead who had originally asked her a question. "Until he can move his arms better there really isn't much I can do with him."

Ginny opened her mouth to argue but Hermione just held up her hand to say that she wasn't finished speaking. "Think about it. Even if I wanted to play a board game or something with him, I couldn't. I would have to move all of his pieces for him and read all of his cards for him, et cetera. The only feesible option is Wizard's Chess, and frankly I don't feel like playing that with my friends let alone someone who doesn't even want me in the same room."

Defeated, Ginny shut her mouth. She knew that Hermione wasn't any good at playing Chess, and she wasn't about to offer up her own services to play with the blonde, nor would her brother or Harry. He was just going to have to deal until he could move around better. "Has he let you bathe him yet? Or does he still keep asking about Snape?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and went back to reading the post. "I've just been scourgifying him for the last week. I figured I would try again today. If he doesn't allow me today then I may just have to give up or knock him out in order to do it." She laughed softly at the thought of knocking Malfoy out just so that she could keep him clean and shook her head. I guess we'll see.

The teens had just finished breakfast when a loud screech reached their ears and a few owls flew to the window. "How many owls did they have to send? We're only one house!" Harry exclaimed as he let the owls in and handed them all treats. He untied the letters from each of their legs and went about handing them out. "One for me, one for Hermione, one for the Weasley's, and one for _Malfoy_." Harry's voice took on a slight snarl as he said the last name.

Hermione took both her letter and the one for Malfoy, placing his on the table next to her while she opened hers to read. The purple booklet in front of her made her pause.

- Issued On Behalf of -

The Ministry of Magic

PROTECTING YOUR HOME AND FAMILY

AGAINST DARK FORCES

Hermione rolled her eyes as she read the headline. The only good thing she could say for Scrimgeour taking over for Fudge was that he seemed to be making an effort to protect people. All Fudge really cared about was protecting himself.

"Right, well I guess I'll go ahead and give this to Malfoy. So he can learn how to protect himself from dark forces." Hermione sighed and grabbed the paper from the table and headed up the stairs. She hated having to go through all of this. She hated how scared the wizarding community was. She hated that she had to be here taking care of Malfoy rather than be with her family when she knew that they were just as scared as the wizarding community. Many of the events taking place in the news for them were the same events on the news for the muggles. Even Amelia Bones had made muggle newspapers.

Stepping into the bedroom where her enemy lay was like walking into the hospital room of a dying patient. There was no movement. No noise. The only sound was the breathing that sounded lightly from under the covers on the bed. She stayed in the doorway, fighting with the guilt that slowly gnawed at her. She knew that Ginny had been right when she'd claimed that Malfoy was probably bored. He was probably also lonely. He had been laying in a bedroom away from everyone for a week already, and she noticed that most of the time he'd slept the time away.

Why? Perhaps he slept so much because sleeping would help him heal faster, but she seriously doubted it. She would just have to make an effort to keep him entertained for a while. Professor Dumbledore had asked her to take care of him. She knew that meant emotionally as well as physically.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione walked further into the room and opened the curtains so that the sunlight poured into the small bedroom, lighting up Malfoy's face. "Rise and shine, Malfoy." She heard a growl and couldn't keep the smile from forming on her lips. "Growl all you like. You're more like a puppy playing tug of war than a big old guard dog. Nobody's afraid of you."

She pulled a chair away from the desk that sat in the corner and pulled it up to the bed so she could put her feet up on the end. Using her toe she pushed at his feet until he growled again, a little fiercer this time. "Oh, the little puppy is growing up. Come on, you can do it. You can be a big scary dog. Come on." She pushed his feet a little more, and giggled out loud when the growl that emitted from the bundle of blankets sounded like a pitbull raring to strike.

"What the hell do you want, Granger?" He asked as he pushed the blankets off of him slowly. He hated that he couldn't even give anything the dramatic flair that it deserved because he couldn't move enough. Even if the pain didn't bother him very much anymore, there were still all the casts that he had to fight.

"I told you. It's time to wake up. You've slept enough this week. Time to greet the world." She smiled and went to hand him the purple packet that had come in the mail for him and then thought better of it. He couldn't lift his arms high enough to look over the paper and she couldn't use magic to make it float in front of him. "You got a packet today from the Ministry. We all did, actually. Would you like me to read it to you?"

"No." Draco glared at the frizzy haired witch in front of him and tried to show through his eyes just how much he loathed the idea of her reading to him like a child. He couldn't wait until the allowed him to do things for himself. Couldn't wait. He also couldn't wait for the day when he could hex that stupid grin off of Granger's face. He knew that despite the fact that he'd told her he didn't want her to read the pamphlet, she was going to anyway. That knowledge came to life when she cleared her throat.

"Okay good. Here we go.

- Issued On Behalf of -

The Ministry of Magic

PROTECTING YOUR HOME AND FAMILY

AGAINST DARK FORCES

The wizarding community is currently under threat from an organization calling itself the Death Eaters. Observing the following simple security guidelines will help protect you, you family, and your home from attack.

You are not advised to leave the house alone.

Particular care should be taken during the hours of darkness. Whenever possible, arrange to complete journeys before night has fallen."

"That's their advice? The buddy system and to basically be afraid of the dark? Are they trying to protect wizards or are they trying to protect muggle children?" Hermione looked up as Draco exclaimed angrily over what the paper said. "I hope like bloody hell they have better so-called 'guidelines' than the ones you just said," he said with one of his trademark sneers, "or else perhaps we should get Fudge back in office."

Hermione vaguely remembered reading the newspaper article to him that said that Rufus Scrimgeour had taken Fudge's job. She was surprised that he actually had opinions about politics though. He didn't seem the type that cared.

"This is the first time I'm reading it through, so I guess we'll see.

Review the security arrangements around your house, making sure that all family members are aware of emergency measures such as Shield and Disillusionment Charms, and, in the case of underage family members, Side-Along Apparition.

Agree on security questions with close friends and family so as to detect Death Eaters masquerading as others by use of Polyjuice Potion (see page 2)."

Hermione wrinkled her nose at the thought of Polyjuice Potion. It didn't take much for her to remember the one time she had attempted using that particular potion. Not only had the taste been horrible, but being turned into a human sized cat had not been a very enjoyable experience. To cover up the distaste left in her mouth at the thought she looked over at Malfoy. "So, Malfoy. What security question should I ask of you. To make sure that you aren't actually a Death Eater?"

His eyes glittered slightly as he smirked. What kind of a question was that, coming from the smartest witch of their age. "How about this one? What kind of a Death Eater would masquerade as a boy who had been nearly beaten to death by _Death Eaters_ knowing that they would just be laid up in bed for a time?" He was sure that he had her with that one. More sure than he'd been of anything since even before getting that stupid letter from the future.

"How about, the really smart Death Eater? The kind of Death Eater that would know that by staying in bed in a house full of members of the Order on a constant basis, that they would learn plenty of information that as soon as they were able, they would be able to give back to Voldemort?" Hermione knew that he was just trying to best her, but she also knew that she would do everything in her power not to let him win.

Malfoy frowned when she actually found a plausible answer to his question. _Well she is the smartest witch of our age_, he thought snidely. "Well how about the fact that they said to come up with questions for close friends and family? I am neither your close friend, nor your family. Therefore I don't see why you should care about asking me the questions anyway." Malfoy was determined to find something that would make the Gryffindor actually have a moment of speechlessness.

"If I find a quill I'll make sure to rewrite it so that it says 'agree on security questions for close friends, family, and any nurse-patient relations'." Hermione was thankful that from being around Fred and George so much, she had a quick wit. She had actually been stumped for a moment when he'd brought up his second point. But she'd found a way to win again, and that was all that mattered. "Now then, If I may continue with the paper so that we can finish this sometime today,

Should you feel that a family member, colleague, friend, or neighbor is acting in a strange manner, contact the Magical Law Enforement Squad at once. They may have been put under the Imperious Curse (see page 4).

Should the Dark Mark appear over any dwelling place or other building, DO NOT ENTER, but contact the Auror office immediately.

Unconfirmed sightings suggest that the Death Eaters _may _now be using Inferi (see page 10). Any sightings of Inferius, or encounter with same, should be reported to the Ministry IMMEDIATELY."

Draco put out his hand before the brunette in front of him could turn the page and continue reading. There were going to be at least ten pages of this? He was not going to sit around so that she could read a Ministry ordained _book_ to him. "Look, Granger, I get the point. Death Eaters are bad. Be careful. Blah blah. I think that out of everyone in this house, I probably know that the best. Unless of course Snape is here and then he wins. Now is that all you came up here for? Because honestly I think I would have rather remained asleep."

"Actually no. Today is your lucky day." Hermione pushed the chair back to its place under the desk and then came up to the side of the bed to help him sit up. She noticed that he still had trouble, and favored some of his ribs, but he seemed much better than when he'd first come in. "Today is the day that I shorten your casts." With a grin she reached behind her and opened the top drawer of the dressing table. Pulling out a circular blade she brought it over to him. "Now I'm going to need you to stay still and not move otherwise I'll end up cutting you along with the casts."

Draco had no doubt that she wished he would move so that she could have an excuse to cut him, but he wasn't about to allow that. She told him not to move, he wasn't going to move. He wasn't going to do anything that would cause him to get even more hurt than he already was. He was just going to sit here and "OW!"

When Hermione had started up the small blade, she had forgotten to mention to Malfoy that it was going to make noise. She could tell the sawing sound caught him off guard the moment he jumped, but the split second that the blade touched his bare arm had already happened before she could pull her hand away to reprimand him about moving. "Sorry, I told you to keep still."

Malfoy glared at her, and at the offensive piece of machinary before holding his arm out to her again, this time ready for the buzzing that it was going to make when it turned on. He held his breath as she began, noticing that as she sliced through the cast small particles jumped into the air. He wasn't sure what the cast was made out of, only knowing that it was a muggle made object, but he was fairly certain that he didn't want to breath in the dust.

To say that he was happy when he could suddenly bend his elbows, and then his knees, would have been a vast understatement. He knew enough to know that he still wouldn't be able to walk around, but knowing that he was able to move his joints had him sighing in relief. "I thought it was going to take longer than just a week to be able to do that," he said to her with his a semblance of smile when she backed away and began cleaning up.

"You would think so, but since you're a wizard you tend to heal faster than muggles do. Even though I can't heal you using magical means, your body is still your body and no amount of dark curses can change that. You still have to heal on your own, but with the magic flowing through your body it should be faster than it would be otherwise." Hermione swept the dust onto the floor and threw the pieces of cast that she had cut off into the trash can. She would have to go get the broom to clean up all of the dust.

"Now that you can move, you'll probably notice that your arms and legs, where the casts were, are going to smell a little weird. You still can't get your casts wet so unfortunately you can't wash yourself, but if you're willing to get over yourself and let me wash you I can having you smelling like a human being again in no time." Hermione cocked a shoulder up and then walked to the door. "Just think about it while I go get a broom."

She made her way downstairs and had just made it into the kitchen when she was bombarded by Ginny. "Hey, what was that screaming I heard up there? You didn't kill him did you? I mean, I wouldn't mind much, but I think you'd get into a lot of trouble with Dumbledore if you were to do that."

Hermione laughed at the younger girl and shook her head. "No I just accidentally cut him. He'll be fine. I just trimmed his casts. Do you know where the broom is?" At the mention of the Broom, Mrs. Weasley walked into the kitchen and put her hands on her hips.

"The Malfoy boy has been calling for you," the older witch said as she placed a hand on Hermione's back and steered her back towards the stairs. "You go see what he wants and I'll send the broom up."

* * *

"Go ahead," he said when Hermione stepped back into the room. She was surprised that he had given in so easily when just a week ago he had put up such a fight. Perhaps it had something to do with that potion he'd gotten.

"Alright. Mrs. Weasley is going to be sending up the broom so I guess I'll go ahead and get some water started. He nodded as she stepped out of the room and she nodded back.

* * *

Hermione could hear the broom sweeping up Malfoy's room while she filled a bucket with hot water. She walked around the bathroom grabbing everything she would need, a bath towel, a wash cloth, soap. She laughed softly to herself as she realized that the only soap they had for guests was Old Spice. It was such a mature scent, and she couldn't help but remember all of the muggle romance books she'd read in the past where the 'hero' wore Old Spice because it was supposed to be a sexy scent.

_Personally I just think it smells like my dad. Nothing sexy about my dad._ She laughed again at the thought and then turned the water off, grabbing the bucket and heading back into the bedroom.

She was pleasantly surprised when she walked in and noticed that Molly had not only sent up the broom, but also a duster. The room practically sparkled compared to how it had looked when she was in there ten minutes ago. In fact, the only thing left that needed to be cleaned were the windows and mirrors, but those could wait another day.

She pulled the chair back over to where she'd stood when cutting his casts and placed the bucket on top of the seat. "What are the chances you can scoot over without help?" she asked as she tried to perch on the edge of the bed by his hip. She watched as the blonde placed his elbow against the bed and used it to push his butt across the bed a few inches. Just enough for her to be able to sit comfortably. "Thanks."

They were both pretty much silent as she pulled the blanket down towards his stomach. She reached behind him and was thankful when he helped her out by moving his arms so she could easily pull off his shirt. When the boys had noticed that he had been in there shirtless while Hermione was working they'd threatened to hex his balls off if he didn't stop flashing the innocent girl.

She picked up the Old Spice and the washcloth, pouring some of the soap onto it then dunked it into the water just quickly enough to wet the soap without washing it away.

She washed methodically. Unused to washing a person that wasn't herself she wasn't sure how he would prefer to be washed, so she simply washed in circles, ensuring that she wouldn't miss a spot. As the sweat and dirt of the week washed away Hermione tried not to notice the scars that lined Malfoy's skin. She knew by the looks of them that many were old, had been there for months, perhaps even years.

She paid close attention to which spots bothered him the most, reminding herself to put some ointment on them after she was finished. "You can ask, you know," she finally heard him say silently.

"Ask what?"

* * *

Draco flinched again as she pressed soap against a particularly nasty cut on his back. There were so many of them intermingling with the scars he'd on there for years that he would honestly be surprised if he had any actual skin left on his back. Soon it would all be scar tissue. He knew that the more she washed, the more visible the scars became and he could practically feel her flinching every time she came across a new one.

His mind shifted to the letter that was currently under his thigh, easily reached when he wished to look over it again. _I know that you are in love with the Gryffindor Princess or you will be. _He wanted to scoff at the thought. He was not, nor would he be in love with the girl behind him. He had been attracted to her on a few occassions, but that was completely different than being in love with someone.

Thinking about being attracted to her, however, brought about thoughts of Lydia from the letter. _Unfortunately my life's failures led to me drinking and after pushing Hermione and causing her to go into labor.. Potter and Granger are two people that you need by your side if you wish to survive this war with some of your dignity intact._

"You can ask, you know," he said quietly. He was sure that he was more surprised to hear him say that than she was. What? Thinking about a letter which may or may not even be real had him suddenly wanting to be friends with Granger?

"Ask what?"

Draco turned his head so that he could see that scars that she was circling. He didn't say anything else though as he faced forward. He held his breath, hoping that she wouldn't actually take him up on the offer. He was glad that she was quiet for a few minutes as the battled raged in him for telling her that she could ask. It wasn't as if he actually wanted to go over his life story with her. Especially about what he had to put up with from his dad.

"Do you want me to ask?" He was surprised that she wasn't forcing her questions upon him right away. He had expected she would ask as soon as he gave her permission. She was usually such a curious person.

She'd moved on to his arms by the time he finally answered. "I'm not really sure," he answered honestly. Once again he was grateful that she wasn't filling the time by talking too much. The only downfall being that the bathing seemed far more intimate than it would if they were talking the whole time.

It wasn't until she had moved across his shoulders to his chest and stomach that she finally bit her lip and spoke again. "What happened?" He looked down at the top of her head and then closed his eyes. She only looked at the spots that she was washing, knowing that if she took in the whole of his abdomen that she would see even more scars, their raised white tissue nearly transparent against his already white skin.

"My dad, Granger," he said with a sneer. "My dad's what happened." He shuddered slightly when she the now clean washcloth across his abdomen. "Don't worry your frizzy little head about it."


	8. Whispers In The Dark

**Disclaimer:**I don't own anything. I don't own the characters, the setting, or anything. Except the plot bunny. I guess you could say I own that. Also, _Whispers In The Dark _belongs to Skillet.

**Author's Note:** I would like to thank Somnus Verus and Just another ginge for reminding me that Hermione's scar didn't happen until seventh year. It's all better now in chapter seven, so if you unfortunately read the unrevised edition, just pretend that the last paragraph or so never happened ;]

**Dedication:** girlfromCostaRica, my "wifey", because she begged me to update before next week. I figured I could bow down to one of her demands – the one that I update – since there was no way I was going to bow down to the other – that I update with three or four chapters.

**Chapter Eight –** Whispers In The Dark

"Hey 'Mione, you want to play a game of chess with us?" Ron Weasley looked at the brunette who was currently sitting at the kitchen table with a frown on her face. He'd noticed that she'd been frowning a lot lately, especially after coming back from the room where Malfoy was staying, but anytime he brought it up to her she changed the subject. With a shake of his head he walked over to the kitchen table, waving Harry off as he went, and sat down in the chair beside his female best friend. "You know you can tell us if he's done something to bother you," he said the words so quietly that he knew only the intended's ears would pick them up.

Still she didn't look up at him. But at least she didn't keep ignoring him. "Ron, if he had done something to bother me I would handle it myself. If there was something that I couldn't handle by myself then I would make sure to let you know."

He knew he couldn't give up that easily. She'd been moping for days when she thought nobody was paying attention. He looked down at his ratty tennis shoes, the laces coming untied, before looking back up at her. Something had to break through to her. Noticing that her hand lay on the table in front of where he sat he picked it up gingerly and held it between his own larger hands. "Hermione, please tell me what's bothering you."

He knew he'd done the trick the moment her eyes met his. Her left wrist was bent, her elbow on the table to hold up her head which she'd cocked slightly so she could see him. Her eyes were rimmed in a dull pink that he knew without words meant she wasn't sleeping well. He would have wondered why he hadn't noticed any crying out from nightmares, or as rustling bed sheets from movement, but he knew that he slept too heavily. He wouldn't even have noticed if she'd been in the same room, the same bed even.

He watched as she rolled her shoulders in a shrugging motion and then pulled her hand out of his slowly, so as not to offend him. "I don't want to talk about it." He could deal with that only slightly better than he could deal with her lying and saying nothing was bothering her. But at least she'd conceded that something was in fact troubling her. "But when I want to talk about it, I'll let you know."

* * *

Ginny laid back in the tub, the bubbles forming all around her body when she heard a knock on the door. "I'm sorry. The person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. If you are willing to wait a couple of hours then your message can be delivered in person," she said out loud with a smile on her face.

"That almost sounded perfectly like a muggle answering machine, Gin," Hermione said when she realized that Ginny had to be taking a bath since there was a slight sound of water sloshing against the edges. She opened the door and quickly shut it behind her, sitting on the toilet cover. "I needed to get away. It was either you or Malfoy."

Ginny laughed and nodded, completely understanding the need to get away from the boys every once in a while. "We have a meeting tonight, don't we?" There hadn't been an Order meeting for a few weeks, at least not to the kids' knowledge, but Dumbledore had specifically requested their attendance tonight. Probably because he had some questions to ask about Malfoy's recovery process.

Hermione's lids closed, her lashes brushing her cheeks roughly before she nodded. "Yeah. Professor Dumbledore said he had some questions for us." Biting her lip she amended what she'd said. "Actually, he said that he had something he wanted to ask Harry and I. But he seemed to know that you and Ron would find out what had been asked either way, so he invited the two of you along too."

Ginny stuck her tongue out at her best friend, pretending to be jealous that Albus Dumbledore didn't actually want to speak with her personally. She splashed a few bubbles in the brunette's direction and then settled back into the water to relax. It was rare that the boys left them alone long enough to let them have a bath instead of a shower. If the tub was large enough that they wouldn't touch she'd have invited Hermione in to soak in the warm water, but the tub wasn't large enough. Not to mention she had noticed that her friend hadn't been sleeping well and she was afraid that the water would put her to sleep.

It was another forty-five minutes before anybody started calling for the girls. Ginny had managed to get all pruny, just the way she liked when she relaxed, and then had started a water fight with Hermione. The brunette's frizzy hair lay plastered against her skin, curling loosely in her face. Her clothes were dripping even more than her hair, but Ginny had stepped out of the bath water and taken Hermione's wand so she couldn't dry herself off. "Gin, come on! You're really going to make me go downstairs looking like this?"

Ginny just smirked at her best friend and nodded, wrapping a towel around herself and running from the room into their shared bedroom so she could get dressed. Hermione sighed and headed out of the bathroom, starting to follow Ginny into the bedroom when she thought better of it. The meeting could take hours if it went like many of the other meetings, and she knew that she hadn't really bothered with Malfoy much today. She should probably check on him.

She headed to his room and opened the door, peeking her head in to see if he was even awake. When his gray eyes met hers she watched as he raised an eyebrow at her. "You look like a drowned rat." He let his eyebrow lay flat again.

"Right." Hermione cleared her throat and smiled at him. "I do. Except, I already know that. So your snide comments, which are, as always, unwelcome, aren't needed. Besides, I'm having a good day and I'm not about to let a spoiled little boy ruin it for me. I just came to ask if there was anything you were going to need within the next few hours." She was happy to note that he had been slowly getting more mobility in his joints. She also noticed that he'd been sitting up a lot more, meaning that his ribs were bothering him less and less. _Maybe it won't take the full six weeks,_ she thought, hoping.

"No. I'm not going to need anything while you hang out with the rest of the Order." Draco rolled his eyes. He hated that he was stuck upstairs and wasn't trusted enough to speak with anybody else. He knew that it was going to take a while, but he hadn't expected it to take this long. It'd been two weeks already!"

"Okay well then I'll see you later."

* * *

The meeting was well under way and Dumbledore hadn't even begun to mention why the four teenagers were allowed to sit in and listen. He hadn't even looked their way. He'd simply started mentioning anything and everything he could think of that the Death Eaters had done in the past couple of weeks, things that hadn't even made it into the papers. Another giant, though thankfully nobody was hurt and nobody saw what happened so the Obliviators weren't needed for that one, a werewolf pack attacked a small town, thankfully on that one they had managed to kill everyone that they had attacked rather than turning them into werewolves. The list went on and on, until finally Dumbledore turned to look at Hermione.

"And how is our patient healing, Miss Granger?" The old man looked at Hermione, his hands behind his back, and waited for her long speech. It was almost inevitable that whenever Hermione was chosen to speak that she would ramble on for as long as she could, exhausting one subject before finding another.

Fortunately, Hermione chose not to indulge her Headmaster. "He's getting better every day. I doubt he'll need to be bedridden for the whole six weeks. He still won't be able to walk, because his legs were so damaged that they will take longer to heal, but after four or five weeks he'll probably be able to walk around on crutches." She knew that normally she would tell them everything she had noticed about Malfoy. The fact that he had been tortured by his own father, the fact that the cuts and bruises were slowly healing. But she also knew that he only cared about whether or not the boy was going to live. Cuts and bruises healed.

"Excellent. Well then I think that's all we have to deal with tonight. Harry, might I speak with you alone?" The older man waited for everyone to file out of the room before going and sitting next to Harry. The three teenagers stood in the open doorway waiting for their friend. "I was wondering if you would be willing to run an errand with me. Why he asked, nobody knew. They all knew that as soon as Dumbledore asked he was actually saying "Harry, we're going to run an errand. There's no choice in the matter."

Harry simply nodded and Dumbledore smiled. "Right, well then by all means go get your jacket. The nights have turned chilly." He stood up, always hiding his hands behind his back where nobody could see them and waited for the raven-haired boy to come back into the room. Turning to where the other students were still standing, watching their Headmaster, his eyes twinkled. "Don't worry, children. I'll bring him back before morning. I simply wish for him to come with me."

The three that weren't going with him hugged Harry goodbye and then went back into the living room to play a couple games of chess and exploding snaps. Anything to pass the time before Harry came back so they could find out just what Professor Dumbledore needed the boy to go do.

* * *

It was still dark outside when Draco Malfoy opened his eyes. He had a habit of waking up in the middle of the night, which he'd taught to himself, because he knew that if he stayed asleep for the full eight hours without a break in the middle that he would start to have nightmares of the night he'd been nearly killed. As it stood now he only had recurring thoughts about it.

He let his eyes adjust to the darkness, making out the dresser, the nightstands, the desk. He looked to his left to where a single oil lamp stood waiting to be turned on. Thankfully since he could move his elbows now he was able to strike a match and light the wick of the oil lamp, turning it down so that it didn't hurt his eyes.

His breath picked up when he noticed something – or rather someone – curled in the chair that usually lay in the leg space of the desk. His eyes roamed over the body of the stranger in his room for a few minutes before he realized just who it was. _But what would Granger be doing in my room in the middle of the night? Asleep._

His brow furrowed as he continued to watch her for a few minutes. She looked terribly uncomfortable, as anyone would really when falling asleep curled up on just the seat on a wooden armchair. She hadn't bothered to throw her legs over the arms to give herself more room. Her legs were pulled up to her chest and her head lay on her knees, leaning against the back of the chair.

"Oi, Granger," he hissed so as to wake her up without scaring her so much that she hexed him. He watched the young girl jump slightly, and turn her head to look over at his bed. "What are you doing in my room in the middle of the night?" It was hard to tell because of the shadows that lay over her face from the dim oil lamp, but he was sure that she'd turned pink at his question.

"S-sorry, Malfoy," she yawned, covering her mouth. "I couldn't sleep. I came in here to be alone." With a raised eyebrow from him she conceded, "Okay well not alone, per se, but away from everyone else. I couldn't sleep, and since you were already asleep I figured it wouldn't bother you. I didn't think you would wake up in the middle of the night to catch me here."

"You couldn't sleep so you came in here? To what? Watch me sleep?" Malfoy smirked knowing that wasn't what she was saying at all, but it was fun trying to mess with her head. He'd spent over five years trying to get Granger to admit that she had a crush on him like everyone else in school did. He wasn't about to stop now.

"No, I didn't come in here to watch you sleep." She huffed indignantly before letting her legs fall, her feet touching the floor as she rolled her neck to try and work out the kinks. "I just wanted to get away. I knew that nobody would check in here if they noticed that I wasn't in bed as I was supposed to be. They may check downstairs, but they wouldn't check in here."

Draco nodded. He understood why they wouldn't come in here. For the same reason that he was surprised to see her there. She hated him. It boggled the mind why she was capable of sleeping in the same room as someone she hated rather than one of her best friends. "Why couldn't you sleep?"

Figuring that six weeks was a long time to forcefully hate someone when he wasn't really doing anything to make you hate him – unlike when they were in school – she shrugged. It wasn't as if it was going to kill her to tell him a vague enough reason why she couldn't sleep. "Bad dreams." It was true enough. She had been having bad dreams. Ever since Malfoy had told her that his dad was the reason for the scars all over him she'd been having nightmares about it. About the boy being whipped, being hit with spells that could hurt him, even being hit with the Cruciatus curse. She wasn't about to go that in depth to him though, she knew that he would make a big deal out of the fact that she'd been dreaming about him.

But she wished that the dreams had only been about him. It might make it easier to sleep, even if it was hard on her to think of those things happening. But it was inevitable that anytime the dream started and she saw Malfoy being hit with the Cruciatus curse, the dream would morph. Suddenly, it wouldn't be her watching Malfoy get tortured by his father. Suddenly the dream would be her imagining what it would like to be in his place. She'd go through the same dream over again except that she'd be the one getting tortured at the hands of _her_ father. She knew that was the significance. Not that Malfoy had been tortured by Death Eaters, but that his own father had played a part in it. It was also how she always knew it was a dream, because her father had no magical abilities.

"I know what you mean," Draco finally whispered. He could tell by the way her eyes had darted towards the ground when she'd stated that she had bad dreams that she didn't want to speak about them. He'd waited until she'd lifted her head and looked at him again before he'd spoken. "That's why I wake up in the middle of the night. So I don't get them."

Now it was Hermione's brow that furrowed. "What do you mean? You can wake yourself up from them?"

Draco shook his head and sighed. "No, they don't usually occur until about now. Or they would, if I had continued to sleep through instead of waking up. It takes a few hours for my body to calm or my mind to fall asleep long enough for the dreams to force themselves in."

"Oh." He could tell just by her expression that she was disappointed with what he'd said. "Mine always occur almost immediately. Sometimes it takes a full hour if my mind has been going non-stop." She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. It had fallen out of her ponytail while she'd been asleep and ringlets rimmed her eyes and cheeks, sticking to her face from the sweat caused by the dreams. "And they reoccur. It doesn't matter if I've already dreamt about it that night, it'll happen again and again until morning."

"So it's probably, what, about two, maybe three o'clock?" Draco asked as he tried to look at the darkness outside of the window. Sadly, Hermione had moved into his way and he couldn't see around her well enough to judge it.

The young woman looked down at the watch she wore on her wrist and nodded. "Yeah, it's two thirty-seven." She yawned again and cocked a brow at him. "Why?"

"Well you said that you're just going to be plagued with the nightmares again, so what would be the point of going back to sleep? I assume you don't want to take dreamless sleep for your own reasons, so I just figured I would stay up with you. If you wanted, I mean."

Hermione couldn't help the smile that graced her face when Malfoy offered to stay awake with her. She'd been too embarrassed to ask him if he would, but she knew that if she went downstairs to start reading that she would fall asleep anyway and that would defeat the purposes of staying awake. She was also pleasantly surprised that he'd guessed correctly that she didn't want to take a dreamless sleep potion.

She had the dreams nightly. She didn't want to become addicted to the potion, not to mention that she didn't feel it was her right to take the potions when they could be used for Harry when he had his nightmares, or for someone else who truly needed them. She could get by without them. Even if it meant having Malfoy for company.

"I'd like that."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I know, I know that's not how Dumbledore asked Harry to go get Slughorn but come on, we have to make due since I moved everything to Grimmauld Place. Also.. Yay! Draco is making an effort. See? He can be a big boy. Sorry there wasn't a whole lot of action in this chapter. I was going to make it longer, to add in the morning when Harry got home, but that will be next chapter. I liked the way this one ended. Plus, my "wifey" girlfromCostaRica has been begging – begging I tell you – for me to update. Apparently she didn't want to wait until next week. :P


	9. Prophecy

**Disclaimer: ** I own nothing. I really honestly own nearly nothing in this chapter. A lot of it was from the books, though I changed some of it around. The title _Prophecy_ belongs to Judas Priest.

**Author's Note: **Hey guys, guess what! You're getting this chapter on Monday instead of Tuesday! Isn't that exciting? Okay so it's because the library isn't going to be open on Friday and I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to get to the internet.. but if I do you should get a chapter on Friday too.

**Chapter Nine - **Prophecy

It was already daylight by the time Harry returned with Professor Dumbledore. Hermione could hear the door opening and Mrs. Black's muffled screaming start right away. She looked over at Malfoy and gave him a small smile. He'd promised to stay up with her until morning, and he'd nearly made it too. He'd only fallen asleep about thirty minutes prior to Harry's arrival.

Walking over to his side of the bed and pulled the blanket up so that he was covered and pushed the bed into a laying position rather than the sitting up position it had previously been in. "Thanks, Malfoy," she whispered as she finished settling him in. She walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind her so as not to wake him, just as Ginny came bounding out of their shared room.

"Hey, how long have you been up?" The redhead had noticed that Hermione wasn't in the room that morning, but she'd also noticed that the bed had been slept in so she knew that Hermione couldn't have been up for very long. "Did you sleep alright?"

Hermione hated lying to her friends, especially Ginny, but she couldn't exactly tell the girl that she'd been up half the night, and that she'd ended up spending the time with Malfoy. She smiled a bit as she thought about the previous night, how he'd spent his time trying to teach her how to play chess. She hadn't wanted to get the chess board from downstairs, afraid someone would notice her walking, or hear the chess board itself, so instead she'd drawn a diagram of one and Malfoy had spent a couple hours teaching her which pieces were which, which ones could move in what direction, and explaining the difference between check and checkmate.

Despite what she'd expected, she'd actually found herself having a good time. "I haven't been up too long. And yes, I slept fine." Hate it as much as she may, it was easier to tell the small lie than to admit she enjoyed Malfoy's company. "Come on, let's go wake up Ron and see what Harry's news is."

The two girls trekked downstairs and burst into the room where Ron slept, snoring loudly. Neither were bothered seeing Ron sleeping without a shirt on and they both ran over to the bed and jumped on top of the redhead. His breathing sputtered and he grabbed the first person that was on him, throwing them off of him.

Ginny made contact with the floor just as Ron sat up in bed and started tickling his other attacker. She knew that Ron had to have known which girl was which since he'd saved the torture of tickling for Hermione who was far more ticklish than she was.

The high pitched squealing that Hermione let out as she tried to bat Ron's hands away from her ribs could have shattered glass, so rather than gloat about the fact that she wasn't being tickled, Ginny ran over and grabbed Hermione away from Ron, smacking her brother on the back of the head to get him to let her go. "Come on, guys. Stop fooling around. I want to see where Harry was all night."

Tossing the blanket off of himself, Ron grabbed a shirt from the floor, whichever was closest, and gestured towards the door. "Ladies first." Ginny laughed and threw a pillow at her brother before heading out the door, Hermione's wrist grasped firmly in her hand. She began pulling the brunette out the door and with a grin, Hermione grabbed Ron's wrist and the train of Gryffindors made their way downstairs to the kitchen.

Ginny was the first one into the kitchen, and the first to wrap her arms around Harry. "Tell us everything!" The other two could only laugh, letting go of each other's wrists as they circled Harry so he could regale them with the tale of his night.

"Honestly, it wasn't that exciting," Harry said as he unwrapped Ginny's arms from around his neck. He nodded his head at Mrs. Weasley who had placed a large plate of food in front of him, then began placing one in front of each other the three other seats so that the children could have breakfast while speaking. "He just wanted me to help him persuade this old teacher to come out of retirement. Horace Slughorn?" He had a lilt in his voice that made it sound as if he was asking everyone if they knew who Mr. Slughorn was.

The teens were slightly surprised when they heard a "hmm" sound coming from Mrs. Weasley. But she quickly brushed aside their worries.

Ron, deciding that the name of the teacher wasn't exciting enough, turned away from his mother and back to Harry as he started stuffing food into his mouth. "Why would he want some old teacher to come out of retirement? What's he need a teacher for?"

Everyone else in the kitchen turned to look at the redhead with looks of astonishment on their faces. It lasted for quite a few minutes before Ron finally asked what everyone was staring at him for. "Oh you can't seriously be that daft, Ronald." Hermione rolled her eyes at the boy who'd been one of her best friends since beginning her schooling at Hogwarts. "Now that Umbridge as left, obviously we need a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, haven't we?"

Ron nearly looked like he wanted to smack himself in the head for not thinking about it first. As it was he turned bright red from embarrassment and turned to Harry to try and hide it from everyone. "So, erm, what's he like?"

"He looked a bit like a walrus," Harry replied as he began eating his own breakfast. "Apparently he used to be Head of Slytherin." He watched as all of the students grimmaced, no doubt thinking about the current Head of Slytherin, Professor Severus Snape. "Well he can't be any worse than Snape. Besides, at least this means Umbridge can't come back."

Molly made another tutting noise at the mention of Dolores Umbridge. It seemed that nobody liked her, nobody but the Slytherin's of course.

"And that's all that happened?" Ron looked into Harry's eyes and realized that the other boy wished to mention something else, but for some reason didn't feel like saying it in front of Mrs. Weasley. "Right. Well that's a bummer." He knew better than to try and push it while his mother was around. If anything, it would just make her hang around them more to try and figure out what they were saying behind her back.

The quartet waited until everyone was finished eating before heading upstairs. "Don't forget that you need to clean another couple of rooms today," she called to them when they were on the steps. Figuring that was the perfect excuse to get away from the matron, they grabbed their buckets and cleaning supplies and headed into one of the guest rooms that hadn't yet been cleared out.

"He's going to be giving me private lessons this year," Harry said conversationally as he shut the door behind them. Hermione's brow furrowed and Ginny bit her lip. "He told me so, this morning in your broom shed. I dont – I don't know exactly why he's going to be giving me lessons, but I think it must be because of the prophecy." He watched as neither of his friends moved, though their eyes had grown in size. All of them. "You know, the one they were trying to steal at the Ministry."

As if that was their cue, the three teenagers all changed position. Ron's fingers gripped their way through his hair, Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest and Ginny stood with her own hands on her hips. "Yeah but it got smashed. Nobody knows what it said."

Harry let Hermione finished speaking before shaking his head. "The one that smashed at the Ministry wasn't the only record of the prophecy. I heard the whole thing in Dumbledore's office, he was the one he prophecy was made to, so he could tell me what it said." Hermione's eyes got even wider than they had been initially. Ginny began biting her lip again, and Harry couldn't even force himself to face Ron until he could get the last bit of what he had to tell them to escape his lips. Taking a deep breath, he pushed on. "It looks like I'm the one who's got to finish off Voldemort..." He ignored the gasp coming from Ron's mouth at the name and sighed. "At least, it said neither of us could live while the other survives."

Nobody spoke for a few minutes. Harry had finally forced himself to look up at Ron and noticed that the usually freckle-faced boy was paler than Malfoy and looked like he was about to faint. Honestly, none of the others looked like they were faring any better.

It took a few minutes but Hermione's coloring finally came back to her face and she nodded as if to confirm something to herself. "Well that explains it," she mentioned. Everyone turned her way because they had no idea what she was talking about. "That must be why Dumbledore himself is going to be giving you lessons. But I wonder what he's going to teach you. Really advanced defense magic, I'm sure. Powerful countercurses, anti-jinxes, general evasive enchantments would be a no-brainer..."

As Hermione continued to speak about what Dumbledore could have in mind while teaching him, everyone else's color started to come back. Hermione wasn't treating Harry's news any differently than she would have if he'd said that he was actually a pureblood wizard and secretly Voldemort's love child. Even if he'd said something as outrageous as that, she'd spend her time trying to figure out exactly how, why, and what that could mean for him. He was pretty sure that he'd never loved his best friend as much as he loved her at that moment for not treating him like he was contagious, knowing that he was going to have to be the one to kill the Dark Lord.

"Well at least you know that's one lesson you'll be having this year," Ginny exclaimed, giving her input. It was just like Ginny to try and make light of the situation. Even if it took her a little bit to jump in. "That's one more than any of us."

"I wonder when our O.W.L. results will come in," Hermione fretted. She had tried not to think about the tests that they had taken at the end of their fifth year, but she couldn't help it now that Ginny had mentioned lessons. She wanted to know what classes they were going to be taking when they began school in September. She wanted to know so that she could get started on the course material early.

"It can't be long now. It's been a month or so since we took them," said Ron.

"I think Dumbledore said our results would be arriving today," Harry said as he held back the grin at when he knew would be Hermione's reaction. She didn't disappoint. She started screaming at him, asking him why he hadn't told her earlier that the results were supposed to come today. She ran back downstairs, determination in her stride as she went to bother Mrs. Weasley about whether or not the owls had shown up yet.

Ron grinned as Ginny followed the brunette, probably to save her mother more than to do anything about Hermione. The two boys grinned at each other some more before Ron's smile dropped slightly. "Are you scared?" He didn't have to mention what he was talking about. Despite everyone thinking that Ron was the stupidest one of them all, he knew that Ron did pay attention.

"Not as much anymore. I was at first, but now it feels like I've always known that it was going to come down to this, you know?" Harry shrugged at his best friend and waited for his response. He knew that Hermione and Ginny weren't going to leave his side during this, but he worried slightly about Ron. No matter how close they were, Ron tended to run away when he was scared, even from his friends. "We'll get through it, Ron."

Ron didn't have a chance to respond though, because at that moment Hermione began screaming again from downstairs. The owls must have arrived. But the boys weren't going to go down until they knew for sure. They didn't want to have to deal with a hysterical Hermione fretting over whether or not she did well on her exams, when they both knew she'd done perfectly. "Harry! Ron! The owls are here!"

The boys ran downstairs to the kitchen where four owls currently stood on the kitchen table. One for each other the current [hopefully] sixth years in the house. Everyone stood by their owl and detached their results, Ginny waiting desperately to find out what they all got.

Harry looked over his paper and grinned. He'd gotten an Outstanding in DADA. He'd exceeded expectations in Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Herbology, Transfiguration, and most excitingly, in Potions. The fact that he hadn't scored well in Divination hardly even phased him. The only other class he'd failed was History of Magic, but after listening to Binns for an entire year, he didn't understand how anyone could pass the class – save for Hermione of course.

Ron had even managed to pass seven of his classes, even if he hadn't received any outstandings. But the fact that he'd passed every class, except for History of Magic and Divination, put him in a better mood than he'd been in for a long time. Even better when his mother hugged him for receiving such good grades. "That's more O.W.L.s than Fred and George managed to get put together. I'm so proud of you, son." The redhead flushed, unable to hide his embarrassment at his mom's display.

Hermione was the only one that didn't seem genuinely happy with her results. She'd managed to get an outstanding in ten of the subjects that she had studied that year, and while that alone should have had her jumping for joy, she was genuinely disappointed that she had only received an exceeds expectations in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The boys rolled their eyes and Ginny grinned.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Hermione shook her head as she looked over at the younger girl wondering what she could be thinking. "It means that I will without a doubt pass my O.W.L.s. I mean, if Ron here can manage to pass, there's no possible way I can fail. I've never been so relieved in my life."

Hermione couldn't help but crack a smile at that, and Ginny grinned again when she noticed that Hermione's mood had lifted. "Well while you all celebrate, I'm going to go ahead and bring Malfoy his results." She tried to take the envelope from the bird, but it wasn't about to let her retrieve them. Knowing that Malfoy would be the only one would could get them, she held out her arm for the owl to climb up and then began walking upstairs.

By the time she made it upstairs, Draco was already sitting up again in bed and waiting for her. "I could hear your screaming from here," he said in answer to her questioning glance. He rose an eyebrow as she flushed and then nodded towards the bird which flew off of Hermione's arm and onto the bed beside him. "I guess I should assume that these are mine?"

Hermione nodded and then waited for him to pull the envelope off of the bird's right leg. Her foot tapped impatiently and Draco simply rose an eyebrow at her again. Knowing that that was the nicest way he was going to tell her to stop, she pulled out the chair from the desk and sat down on her feet so she wouldn't be able to move them. She even took to sitting on her hands as Malfoy looked over his results before sharing them.

Draco felt like he could breathe easier by looking at that small piece of parchment than he had been able to for weeks. He nearly broke into a grin too, but he didn't want to give away how happy he was with the results just yet. It was far more enjoyable to let Hermione sit in torture for a few more minutes. He kept his eyes on the paper's edge just enough that he could see her fidgeting in her chair. When he was sure that she wasn't going to be to stand it anymore, he turned to look at her. Her movements stilled and her eyes became the size of saucers.

"Did you do okay?"

Draco was touched that she actually seemed worried about the fact that he might have failed, but he pushed the feeling aside and just grinned. "Of course I passed. Though I doubt I passed as many as you, seeing as I refused to replicate myself just so that I could have more classes than anyone in the history of the school." He was almost afraid that he'd gotten to snide with his teasing until Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. "Let me guess, you passed all fifty classes that you were taking, no doubt with outstandings in everything."

She shook her head and looked down at the ground. "Not everything." Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and then looked back up at Malfoy. "I didn't get an outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Well then the instuctor was rubbish," he replied honestly. "Although, it's also rubbish that you're actually bothered by the fact that you didn't manage to over-achieve in every single class that you took. But the instructor was rubbish if you didn't. You're friends with Harry Potter. According to the papers you battled Death Eaters at the Ministry. Battled my father, even." He met her eyes and gave her a pointed look. "If you managed to survive that, then you shouldn't need a piece of paper telling you that you're outstanding at defending yourself against the Dark Arts."

A burning sensation began behind Hermione's eyes, but she didn't let the tears fall. She had a hard time believing that the boy who was sitting in front of her was the same Draco Malfoy she'd known her entire magical career. Without thinking about it first she got up from the chair, ignoring the wary look in his eyes as she got closer. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Hermione gave her biggest enemy a hug for the first time in her life. "Thank you, Malfoy."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Question for anyone who actually bothers to read my notes, and reply to them.. how many more chapters do you want before they get to school? Obviously there's going to be at least one, when they go school shopping.. But do you want there to be one for every week that he's bed-ridden? Do you just want me to hurry the heck up and get on with getting them to school because you're tired of Malfoy being stuck in bed? And also, if you guys have any ideas of what you would like to see happen, by all means let me know and I will try my best to incorporate them.


	10. If Only You Knew Lydia

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Everything belongs to JK Rowling, except the title of the chapter. That belongs to Dean Friedman.. kinda. I switched the wording around a little, the actual lyric is "Lydia, if only you knew how much I love you" but it makes more sense for the story the way it is now :].

**Author's Note:** Hooray for the fact that I managed to write two chapters over the weekend.. hence why you're getting a chapter two days in a row. I'm going to do my best to get another one up on Thursday but we'll see if my muses will work with me.

**Chapter Ten – **If Only You Knew... Lydia

"Checkmate."

It was the sixth night in a row that Hermione Granger sat in the bedroom that was currently being occupied by Draco Malfoy. Nearly a week ago he'd begun to teach the young woman how to play the game of chess, though up until tonight it had always been via parchment. Tonight was the first night that they were playing with an actual board, and for some reason Hermione couldn't seem to remember how any of the pieces were allowed to move. The blonde in front of her had already won a handful of times. But she was determined to beat him eventually.

"Again." Draco chuckled at home demanding Hermione could be when she wanted to beat someone at something. He'd have figured she'd've given up by now until she could get the gist of the game better, but she seemed to think that by playing it over and over again she was going to figure out how to play. It had to be the first time that she'd ever acquiesced that hands on experience was better than trying to learn from a book.

"Fine, but this is the last game." Draco looked over at her pouting and chuckled again. Who'd have ever thought that he'd have so much fun beating the girl at something as simple as chess? The two teens watched as the pieces settled back on the board in their rightful places. "Tell you what, I'll even let you go first," he offered.

"Fine," she said sticking her tongue out at him. "pawn to H3."

And so the game began. Draco matched her move for move, a grin on his face when he saw an opening after only a handful of moves. "Queen to G5," he whispered loud enough for the pieces to hear him, but low enough that none of the other house occupants could hear. His grin widened as his queen knocked her knight out and dragged it off the board. Her face fell and he almost felt bad for getting the first piece – almost. Not bad enough that he didn't take one of her pawns with his knight only a couple moves later. "Check."

Hermione was beyond disappointed that they were already in check and she studied the game board harder than she had for any of the other games. It had only taken a few minutes for Malfoy to win each previous game, she was determined to at least put up a fight during this one, even if she couldn't win. A smirk that would have made any Malfoy proud graced her face as she called out to her queen. "Queen to C2." Her own queen took out the knight that had just taken her pawn and she felt like cheering.

Sadly it didn't last long. "Bishop to C2." Draco's bishop took out Hermione's queen before she even knew what was happening and she felt her shoulders slump. She'd been so excited that she could take one of his pieces that she hadn't even looked to see if when she moved he would be able to take hers back.

Another handful of moves and she got to take another piece, one of his pawns, but not before he took her knight, and right after managed to take one of her pawns. She straightened up to study the game board, moving only when she felt somewhat secure about the moves, but she was running on little sleep from the past week and it was starting to catch up with her. She didn't even notice when he took her rook. But her eyes did pop back open when she saw that she could take his pawn during her next move. "Check! Check! Check!"

She bounced happily on the bed, knocking into Draco's leg and he let out a hiss of breath. Hermione stopped bouncing immediately and put her hand against his leg. "I'm so sorry, Malfoy. I didn't mean to hurt you again." She'd made a habit when they played of sitting on the bed with him, but it seemed that every time she did she ended up banging one of his wounds. _You should probably take that as a hint to stop sitting on the bed with him while you play, smarty-pants,_ she scolded herself silently.

"It's okay. Just play the game." By the time Draco called checkmate it was closing in on six o'clock in the morning and Hermione's head was laying on the cast on his leg. Thankfully the hard cast didn't let him feel the weight of her head, otherwise he was sure his broken bones would be screaming. As it was, the only thing screaming at the moment was his knee. He needed to straighten out his legs and get comfortable, but he wasn't able to do that with her sitting where she was. "Granger, come on Granger, open your eyes."

The brunette turned her head into the cast so that her hair covered her face and Draco felt his annoyance build. He shook his leg a little but she still refused to move. "Hermione!" He spoke loudly enough that he knew if anybody else was awake on the floor that they would have heard him calling her name. Thankfully it managed to do the trick, and nobody else came into the room to find out why he was calling out for her.

She stretched her back, covering her mouth with her hand as she yawned and then finally noticed that she was in his way. Apologizing profusely she got up off the bed and moved to the opposite wall. Her head was already hanging low by the time she made it there and Draco sighed to himself before speaking out loud again. "You should go back to bed, Granger. It's late enough that you should be able to sleep without any nightmares." He was glad that she was awake enough that he could call her by her last name again. Calling her Hermione had reminded him of the letter, which in turn reminded him of Lydia, their supposed daughter.

He tried to picture the little girl, what she would look like. Would she look more like him, or more like her? Whose eyes would she have? Whose hair? Would she be a Gryffindor or Slytherin? He rubbed his face to try and push away the thoughts of a child that didn't exist.

Hermione nodded and headed out the door, shuffling her feet as she went. When she reached the door she put a hand on the frame and turned back to look at him. "Night, Ferret," she whispered to him with a small wave. It was a teasing gesture that she'd started up the second night she'd come to his room. He looked back at her and nodded, his eyes somber.

"Night, bookworm."

The minute she left the room his thoughts of Lydia returned in full force. He wasn't sure what to do about that anymore. He still had another couple of weeks to be stuck in bed before Granger would let him up to walk around on something she called "crutches." She wasn't sure what they were, but when she'd tried explaining that they were pieces of wood that you put under your arms to help you walk he couldn't help but think they sounded extremely unpleasant to use.

He fell asleep dreaming of crutches and a little girl with brown curls and blue eyes. And of Hermione Granger, who had invaded his dreams as well as his life. Even if was only to play chess in the middle of the night so that she didn't have to have so many nightmares.

* * *

Hermione made her way into the bedroom that she shared with Ginny and let out a sigh as she lowered herself into the bed. She wrapped herself in the small blanket that she'd switched with the redhead because the other girl tended to get colder at night than she did.

"Where've you been?" The brunette let out a stifled scream when someone spoke to her in the darkness of the room. When her eyes adjusted she noticed that Ginny was sitting up in bed, her eyes trained on Hermione's bed as she waited for an answer.

"I couldn't sleep." It was probably the most truthful answer she could give without giving away where she was actually going in the middle of the night.

Ginny pushed the blanket off of her legs and swung them around so they sat on the floor. Looking over at her best friend and waited another few minutes for a less vague answer, and when she didn't get one she sighed. "I know you couldn't sleep. You haven't been sleeping for weeks. But where have you been? I checked the library and the kitchen and didn't see you at all."

Hermione debated on whether or not to tell her where she'd been. She knew better than to hope that the redhead would understand why she went where she went, but she secretly hoped that if she did tell her that it could just be their little secret. She wanted to tell someone what was going on, someone besides Malfoy. "I..." But she just couldn't get the words out.

"You've been going to Malfoy's room, haven't you?" Hermione's head snapped up to look at Ginny and the girl laughed as she got out of bed and walked over until she was close enough that she could sit on the edge of the brunette's bed. "It's either you're going into Malfoy's room every night, or you're sleeping with my brother. Since I haven't heard Harry say anything about seeing you every night, I have to assume it's Malfoy."

Hermione sputtered at what Ginny was implying. "I am not sleeping with Malfoy. You're insane." Ginny shrugged as if to say that it was the only feasible idea, but Hermione shook her head vehemently. "I'm not sleeping with him. I've been in his room but not to sleep with him." Her face had turned bright red at the current topic, and she couldn't seem to will it away.

"Then just what have you been doing with him?" Ginny asked with a teasing smile, knowing that Hermione most likely wasn't doing anything untoward with Malfoy, but she loved riling the girl up. It was too funny how easy it was to embarrass her considering that she was older than Ginny was.

"Playing Chess." Hermione groaned out the answer and Ginny's brows knotted together. "Yes, Ginerva. Malfoy has been teaching me how to play chess. When I can't sleep I go in there and he teaches me how to play. That's all we've been doing. Honestly." She shook her head softly, her curls bouncing around her head as she lay back on the bed, pulling the blanket up over her face. "But he's not as bad as he used to be."

Ginny wasn't about to let her go with that statement without explaining it so she grabbed the blanket and yanked it off the girl. "What do you mean, he's not as bad as he used to be?"

Hermione couldn't help the shrug that came up as an answer. "I mean just that. He's not as bad as he used to be. He's actually..." she paused as she tried to think of the right word to use. "Nice. A lot of the time. And patient."

Hermione was once again reminded of the other night when he'd carefully explained just what each piece did. She'd always prided herself on being a quick learner, but chess just didn't come easily to her. She'd had to have him repeat every piece three times, and that was before she tried to actually put his information to practice. Once they'd started using the sheet of paper he'd had to repeat it all again a few more times, and he hadn't once gotten upset with her. Sure he'd made cracks about how she was supposed to be the brightest witch of their generation, but he hadn't said it meanly. He'd simply teased her, like Harry or Ron would tease her.

"And he's a little strange sometimes," she said quietly as she thought of two nights ago. They'd finished their "tutoring" session on the game and he had curled up to get comfortable so that he could go to sleep. She knew that she should feel bad about keeping him up so much at night, but she was too happy that she wasn't having nightmares to worry about whether Malfoy slept during the day or during the night.

She'd just been about to leave the room, sure that he was slipping under the spell of sleep when he'd turned his face in her direction. He didn't bother opening his eyes, he knew she was there. She always said goodnight before closing the door behind her and she hadn't managed to do that yet. Just as she was about to open her mouth to say "goodnight, Ferret," he'd opened his own. "What do you think of the name Lydia?"

She'd been so shocked by the question, unsure of how to answer, that by the time she had an answer for him – though it was only going to be that she wasn't sure – he'd fallen asleep. His soft snoring the only sound as she whispered "goodnight" to him before closing the door. He hadn't asked her again, and she wasn't about to bring it up since she still didn't have an answer for him. What did she think about the name Lydia?

She tried to think of it in simply the facts first, thinking maybe she could figure out why he was asking. She knew that Lydia had been an Iron Age kingdom in Turkey. She knew that it meant "noble kind, or of noble sort." She knew that it was a name in the bible. She knew that it was a character in Pride & Prejudice, which had always been one of her favorite books.

But somehow, she knew that wasn't what he meant. Did she like the name Lydia? She didn't dislike it. She'd honestly never even thought of the name Lydia before. It wasn't as if she knew anyone with the name. She wondered if he was planning on getting a new pet this school yet and he was trying to think of names for it. Lydia might be a nice name for an owl, she supposed.

"Well as long as that's all you've been doing." Hermione had nearly forgotten that Ginny was sitting on the edge of her bed when the redhead spoke. She watched the girl get back off of her bed and walk back to her own bed and lay down. "Get some sleep, 'Mione."

And the brunette did just that, falling asleep thinking about the name Lydia, and trying to figure out how she felt about it. But more than that, trying to figure out why Draco Malfoy wanted to know how she felt about a name. It wasn't as if they were friends, he shouldn't need her opinion. _Or was it?_ Had they been turning into friends over the nights that she spent time with him playing chess? Or were they both just two teenagers trying to get away from nightmares, and using whoever was convenient at the time?

Her last thought before the darkness took over was that she fervently hoped it was the former, even if it was just baby steps. It would be nice to know that she was breaking through Malfoy's armor and getting to see the boy he was inside instead of the jerk he showed the world.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who commented on the question I posted last chapter. A bunch of you like seeing Malfoy bed-ridden, so I shall accommodate for another chapter or two.


	11. To Make It Up To You

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own anything you recognize. I don't own HP or any of the characters / settings. Or the title of the chapter which belongs to

**Author's Note:** HAPPY THANKSGIVING! This chapter literally took a whole two hours to write. Hopefully you all like it. I know you're all looking for Dramione action, but let's face it. She's not going to completely ignore her friends just because she's helping Draco.

**Dedication:** I would like to dedicate this chapter to cherryweasley1998 for giving me the idea for this chapter. And for just being a fun person to talk to.

**Chapter Eleven – **I Will Suffer For So Long To Make It Up To You

Two hundred and twelve hours, forteen minutes, and twenty-seven seconds. That was how long it had been since they had gotten their O.W.L. scores. Nearly nine full days. As it was it was bordering on five o'clock in the morning, and Granger hadn't even bothered to come in last night. Actually, if he thought about it, Granger had only shown up a couple times over the past week or so. She'd told him that the she-weasel had caught her coming in late one night, but he hadn't thought that would stop her from coming all together.

He sighed and shifted in bed trying to find a comfortable spot but he had to face facts. He'd been laying every which way he could think of for a month and a half now. The bed had lost any comfort if may have first held for him. He was tired of laying down. He couldn't wait to get on those "crutch" things that Granger kept going on about. He'd have to ask her about those the next time he saw her.

He was annoyed that the girl hadn't bothered to come in simply for the fact that he was lonely. Sure he saw her every day while she played nurse-maid, but she never really stopped to speak to him while she was working. The only time they truly spoke was when she came in at night. He supposed he was mostly annoyed that she hadn't told him that she wasn't going to come in that night. He'd stayed up nearly all night waiting to see if she would make an appearance, not wanting to be asleep if she did manage to sneak past the redhead.

_Woah, wait. Why does it even bother me so much?_ He thought strangely, sinking into the pillows as he waited for the pull of sleep. _It's not like I even like her company._ Well, he shouldn't say that. He didn't dislike her company. She could be intriguing to talk to when she wanted to, when she wasn't trying to shove her knowledge about everything down someone's throat. He'd never really understood why she always did that. Why she always felt the need to prove that she was smarter than everyone else. It didn't make people like her. In fact it steered more people away from her because she ended up making them feel inferior.

_And they say I treat people like they're inferior._

He chuckled softly at the irony of the situation and tried turning on his side. The trouble with sleeping on his side was that the casts layered on top of one another, and were ultimately far more uncomfortable than sleeping on his back for extended periods of time. But he needed to get at least a few hours of sleep so that it didn't look like he'd waited up. It was one thing to know for yourself that you pathetically waited up for someone to show up and then they never did, but it was a whole 'nother brand of pathetic when you waited up so long that they found out that you waited up for them, only to look at you with pity in their eyes.

And with the thought of Hermione Granger pitying him, he turned his back to his door and fell asleep with the sun lingering in his face.

* * *

It was only mid afternoon when Draco finally woke up only to find Granger in his room watching him. He wondered vaguely how long she had been standing there, but he didn't bother asking. He shifted slightly so that he was sitting up more and watched as she walked closer to him to set a pillow behind his back to keep him sitting up. "Do you need something?" His voice came out rough from sleep and he had to clear it in order not to strain his throat the next time he spoke.

"Actually, I do. I was hoping that you'd like to play a game." The brunette before him chewed on her lip, her front teeth denting it distractingly. "Ginny and the boys found a deck of cards in a closet downstairs that have a bunch of questions on them and thought it would be fun to play. I just wanted to see if you wanted to play too. I know you must be bored up here."

Gray eyes looked over her and waited for the catch. She just expected him to play some sort of question game with her and her friends, like they all got along? And just what kind of questions? Questions about himself? He would have to answer questions about himself in front of a group of people that wouldn't trust him if he were the last person on earth? Not bloody likely. "Fine."

He sighed as he realized that he had just given in to her. It was only because he was hoping that by other's answering questions that he would learn all of their weaknesses. At least, that's what he tried convincing himself. But he knew the real reason was far simpler than that. He was bored. And he'd strangely missed the bookworm's company the night before. At least if he played her stupid game he would have some form of company. Even if that company hated his guts.

The brunette jumped into the air and grinned like a maniac. "That's so great. You'll have fun, Malfoy. I promise. I'll go tell everyone. Mrs. Weasley offered to let us play while we ate so I'll just tell her to put everyone's food on a tray instead of just yours." She spun in a circle and then caught herself on the doorframe. "Thank you, Malfoy." He had no idea what she was thanking him for, but it was entertaining to watch her jump around so much.

All he could do was nod at the girl before she stumbled out of the room on her way downstairs to find her friends and the mother hen. He could hear her speaking to the matron before finding her friends and telling them the "good" news. Chuckling to himself when he heard the Weasel bellow that there was no way he was playing any game with that bouncing ferret. But Draco knew that the freckled git would give in, just as he had. And it would be worth playing the game just to force Weasley to deal with his presence.

* * *

"Have you ever met a celebrity? Is so, who was it?" Ginny looked over at Hermione and giggled after reading the question out loud. Hermione quickly moved her eyes to the three boys that were sitting in the circle with them and grinned. Ron's grin matched her own, and even Draco looked like he wanted to smirk at the question. Only Harry was truly thinking about an answer to the question. She waited a minute to see if he could come up with anyone off the top of his head, and when he still sat there scratching his head for an answer she nodded at the others. As if on cue, all four teenagers looked at the bespectacled boy and said the same name at the same time: "Harry Potter."

Harry looked up at them wondering why they were all calling his name and then laughed sheepishly. He hadn't even thought about the fact that he himself was a celebrity. Not that he could have answered with himself. But he could have answered with Dumbledore's name. But he'd simply but too much thought into the question.

Ron took the deck from his sister's hands and pulled up the next card. "If you could be reincarnated as any animal, which would you choose?" He snickered softly as he looked over at Malfoy. In fact everyone had softly started laughing at the question and looking at Malfoy. No doubt everyone was remembering just what the blonde looked like as an animal.

"I would choose an otter." Hermione stopped giggling long enough to answer the question. She knew that they all already knew Draco's answer, it was only a matter of time before he said it aloud. They didn't even have to wait very long.

"Anything but a ferret."

Draco was surprised to say that he wasn't having that bad a time. They had just started the game, after a long drawn out shuffle from Granger while they others started on their dinners. Mrs. Weasley had made a pot roast for everyone and the smell alone was causing Malfoy's stomach to growl. At least he could move his own arms now so he didn't have to worry about Granger feeding him like an invalid.

He grabbed the deck away from the Weasel and read the next card. "If you could disappear for three days, where would you go? What would you do?" He took another bite as he waited for everyone's answer. He personally couldn't think of anything he wanted to do with only three days time.

"Three days isn't nearly enough time. Though I suppose if I had longer than three days I would like to check out every library I could. Obviously I would read books while I was there." Everyone rolled their eyes at Hermione's answer and he passed the deck over to her. It had already started that the last person to answer the question was the next person to ask. "If you could have any superpower, what would it be?"

Draco frowned into his bowl of pot roast before looking back up at the muggle-born. "What do you mean, super power?" Was that supposed to be some sort of muggle idea, or did she simply mean pick something that he wanted to be super at?

"You mean like those superheroes that you were telling me about?" He looked over at the she-weasel to see what she was talking about when he noticed Potter nod. Superheroes. Must have been some sort of muggle idea. "Well then I'd like to be that one girl with the red hair." She laughed and Draco once again questioned what she was talking about.

"I want to be that water guy. He had a cool suit. I don't remember what his power was, though." He was surprised when Ron actually answered the question. He'd made it clear before they started that he didn't plan on answering very many questions while Malfoy was around. He only planned to answer questions that wouldn't give anything away about himself. Too bad for him that Draco already knew all he cared to know about him.

"Ginny, her name is Poison Ivy. And she's not really a super hero. She's more a villan. But her power is poison. And plant control. That's really what you want?" Hermione scrunched up her nose when the redhead stated that she wanted to be one of the better know villans.

"I don't really care what her powers are. I just think it's cool that there's a super-power person out there with red hair."

Hermione rolled her eyes at her best friend's reasoning behind picking the villans and then turned back to her other best friend and the other redhead in the room. "As for you, Ronald. The 'water guy' is known as Aquaman. He can talk to fish."

The other three turned to look at Ron while Hermione explained about the person he had picked. "Oh that's blood brilliant. So Weasley wants to be able to talk to his dinner and Red wants to move plants around. No wonder wizards don't bother with these 'superheroes' that you're talking about."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at Draco and then smirked on her own. "I'd have to say that if I had to choose any, I would probably be like Susan Storm. But I could remedy that simply by borrowing Harry's cloak," she said with a wink in the direction of the raven-haired boy.

Well that was curious. Draco wondered who this Susan Storm was, and just what stupid superpower she had that Granger would be capable of attaining simply from borrowing a piece of cloth from Potter.

"I think our lives are complicated enough without adding super powers to the mix." Always the downer, Harry picked up the deck that Malfoy had set on the edge of his tray and grabbed the next card. But before he read the next question he turned to look at Ron. "But, Aquaman can do more than just talk to fish." The boy's best friend smiled at the thought that he'd have a better superpower than just speaking to aquatic animals and waited for the next question. "What's your favorite fantasy?" The green eyes behind the glasses grew larger as he realized what he'd just asked. His skin turned a bright pink color and he ducked his head hoping to hide the blush from the others in the room. But that didn't stop him from thinking about the fantasy that took over his mind anytime the subject of said fantasy walked into the room.

Ginny's own face blushed deeply as she thought about the many fantasy's she'd had about the dark haired wizard sitting beside her. She turned to look at Hermione, her eyes bright with embarrassment knowing that the brunette knew all about her secret crush. Even Ron's face had turned a near purple color with his own embarrassment. The redhead cleared his throat and ducked his head much as Harry had.

But nobody's embarrassment looked anything as great at Hermione Granger's did. Her face had turned scarlet, the blush going past her hairline and down her neck, covering her chest. She had to pull her shirt away from her body and wave it a couple of times to try and cool herself down. It was one thing to have fantasies. It was completely something else to try and talk about those fantasies in front of boys who were like brothers to you. Not to mention... Malfoy. She turned her eyes away from him and shook her head. "Right," she said with a scoff. "We'll just skip this one. Nobody wants to talk about their fantasies."

But nobody had bothered making eye contact with the gray-eyed wizard sitting on the bed. As it was, he was currently trying to hide his laughter behind one of his cast-wrapped arms, but it was leaking out as he noticed the various shades of red that everyone had taken. The first chuckle that escaped was quiet enough that nobody turned his way, but once that first sound let loose he couldn't seem to hold the rest back. He threw his head back, tears nearly streaming down his face. Oh and he'd thought this game would be stupid. But in fact he was sure that it was the highlight of his time here so far. Fantasies. What a load of shit.

Or at least it was, until he tried to think of a fantasy of his own and the only one that came to mind was of himself wearing his finest dress robes, and Granger with her hair bewitched to not look like a rat's nest. He pictured her in a long blue dress, the kind that made every curve she possessed look flawless. But more than that, he pictured the flush of her cheeks that she would have when plied with too much alcohol. He pictured himself practically ripping the dress from her body until she stood before him naked as the day she was born. The only fantasy that came to his mind, was the only fantasy he'd read about in the last couple months. The one that supposedly caused Granger to become pregnant with their daughter. He nearly swallowed his tongue at the sight of her in his mind's eye wearing nothing but her high heels, pulling him down-

"Malfoy!" His glazed eyes focused again as he took in the girl in front of him. She looked nothing like the girl in his fantasy, and yet he had no doubt that it was in fact the same girl. The flush on her face had gone down until just her cheeks were pinkened and it reminded him again of the fantasy that that stupid letter he'd received had put in his head. He wasn't even sure if he believed anything the letter had written, but he knew that he needed to get it out of his mind. "What name would you never give your child?"

Draco didn't even bother thinking about the answer long enough to pick one that he was serious about, he spat out the first name that he could think of that would push him further away from Granger. "Lydia."

Hermione's ears pricked as she heard him utter the same name he had days ago. She wondered why he seemed to have such a fit over the name when he'd just asked her how she felt about it a week ago. Was it because she'd never answered him about how she felt about the name? She had thought he'd forgotten about it since he hadn't brought it up since. She watched as Ron finished eating his own dinner and then picked up everyone else's plates and headed downstairs to give them to his mother. They had all promised that they would bring the plates down as soon as they were finished eating.

Ginny took the cards back from Hermione, pursing her lips at the fact that the brunette had skipped her turn. Looking at the card on top she lifted her lips. "What attracts you most to the opposite sex and why?"

Hermione looked over at Ginny and smiled, though the smile seemed a bit forced. She was still too busy thinking over the Lydia ordeal. "Their eyes. You can always tell if someone is going to be intelligent by their eyes." She didn't bother explaining any further, and she frowned again when Malfoy spoke. It almost seemed like he was deliberately trying to make her feel bad. Had she done something to upset him?

"Their hair. I want someone that I can run my fingers through their hair. Like you, Red. You have decent hair, or you would if it weren't for the color. Granger over there, however, doesn't. You'd never be able to run your fingers through that mess. You'd get stuck before you made it through an inch of those curls."

Ginny watched as Hermione flushed, and shrugged her answer to the question. "Personally, I just usually look for a guy that's taller than me." Ironic then that Harry wasn't actually taller than her. They were about the same height, if she wasn't actually taller than he was. Especially in heels.

Harry took the next card, unable to think of his own answer since it wasn't as if he had a 'type', and looked down at the small bit of cardboard. "If you could touch someone's life, who would it be and why?" He looked over at Ginny and watched her shake her head, mutely stating that she didn't have an answer. His eyes made their way over to Malfoy who also shook his head. When he made his way towards Hermione he was surprised to see that her eyes had dimmed, more than likely thinking of an actual answer to the question.

But if she did in fact have an answer, she didn't let anybody know. She came back to herself and looked over at Malfoy, holding his eyes for a moment or two before shaking her head, also. "Pass." She put her head back against the chairback and waited until Ron trooped back upstairs and sat down at his own chair. She almost wanted to quit playing the game at all, bothered by how much Malfoy's answers were affecting her. Since when did she care what he had to say about her hair? He'd always made fun of her for it.

Figuring that it was his turn to ask a question, Ron picked up the next card and sighed. "Can we hurry up and end this game? It's gotten boring." Nobody claimed otherwise so they figured that as soon as everyone who wanted to answered the question, they would leave the rest of the deck until the next time they felt like playing. "What person do you admire most and why? Well that's easy. No doubt we'll all say Harry. There, all done."

Ron once again stood up and walked out of the room, but before Hermione could force herself to stand up she opened her mouth. "It's a tie." She closed her eyes, but she could tell that the others in the room were looking at her for an explanation. "On the one hand, Harry has always been the bravest person I know. Willing to go after Voldemort and do everything in his power to stop him from hurting anyone else." She sighed and leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees and catching her face in her palms. "But on the other hand, there's only one person I know of that has ever had the gall to try and spit in the Dark Lord's face. Only one person willing to be tortured nearly to death so that he didn't have to become a Death Eater."

Both Harry and Ginny caught each other's eyes before looking back at Malfoy. He was sitting up in the bed with his eyes dancing curiously along the top of Hermione's head. They wondered how he felt knowing that Hermione admired him as much as she admired her own best friend, but they didn't get an answer. Instead, the brunette stood up from her chair and walked with them out of the room.

The younger two had made it to the stairwell, Hermione lugging behind when Malfoy cleared his throat and called her name. She stepped back into the room, though she didn't bother looking up from the floor. She just waited for him to tell her what he needed so she could be on her way.

"You."

Just one single word. A word that could have been said as a name almost as much as anything else. But it caused her to finally make eye contact with him again. She felt like she was burning up when she did, still embarrassed by what he'd said about her hair. But she couldn't change the fact that she'd been born with a case of the frizz.

"You're the only person I know that will take an insult and then do everything in your power to prove that it shouldn't be used against you. Mudblood – you'll show everyone that your blood is just as red as everyone else's. Beaver – you fix your teeth so they're not only shorter, but straighter. Tell you that you don't deserve the magic you was born with – you'll prove to everyone that you're smarter than them, and a better witch than they could ever hope to be." She tried not to let her hopes up, but his words were causing a small part of her stomach to do jumping jacks. But she had to know. She had to be certain.

"What are you trying to say, Malfoy?" She held his eyes, his gray orbs pulling her in and trying to show her every emotion running through his mind, while at the same time pushing her away and throwing up a barrier that nobody could ever break down. But she didn't care what his eyes were saying. She neded to hear what he would say. She needed to hear the words.

"You're the person I admire most, Granger," he muttered.


End file.
